Grandpa & Grandma, 8.5.12

Scrap art | 24X24″

My grandfather was born in the last year of the 19th century. David and his redheaded wife, Edith, were generous and loving.

This piece came about in the usual way: I grab something that I think looks cool and start moving it around on a ceiling tin, adding different things until I see something, or until I get an idea. While I was positioning these wooden column bases around, it started to look a lot like Grandpa, so I looked for a mustache, which I had (a road flattened brass bristle I found last week). He had kind of a big nose, so the old pipe my sister sent me seemed to work… both he and my father smoked a pipe. I do too.

They lived forever in a small house in Ohio, so I rooted around and found a license plate that pinpointed a place in time.

Edith is made of a funnel and assorted pieces that fit her diminutive scale… her orange hair is a frayed bit of nylon cord I found years ago.

The interesting thing is that once I’m finished with a piece, only then does the meaning of an object reveal itself. In this case, it’s the foundation – the base of a pillar – which crumbled, in the end.