I started constructing the piece atop of this cart (one of many that live in the CofC sculpture studio) because it was a piece that was built upon itself. It was also very fragile and easily dirtied, so it was important that I handle it as little as possible. I'd roll it around on the cart about the studio, over to the plaster station, back to my little corner, back and forth. Now, you'll notice the mess of plaster covering the cart... that wasn't there when I began. Constructing this "tower" proved to be a rather tedious, difficult, messy and horribly frustrating process. As many already know, in order to make each "blob" I filled condoms (yes, condoms) with wet plaster, tied them off like balloons, formed them into the desired shape, and held them in place until they hardened. Well... as the Trojan box warns, condoms aren't 100% effective... they DO break... hence the mess.
My plan was to build a tower of sorts, from the ground up... as high as I could go. But, due to the weakness of the latex, the fragility of the hardened plaster, the precariousness of the stacked blobs... I realized this was never going to happen. It was an unattainable goal. A true "tower of babel" type of experience. I felt on the smallest scale what those Babylonians must have felt on the most enormous scale... this feeling that despite all my efforts, I'm not in control. That there's a force far greater that deserves my respect, my honor, and my humility and without acknowledging that, all efforts are futile.
So, I submitted the piece on this cart for the sake of convenience, with the assumption that if it were selected it would then be moved to a proper white pedestal... but the curator, Mary Jane Jacob, liked the pedestal... thought the piece belonged atop of it. At first I was like, huh? But then I realized how right she was. The cart tells the story... it's evidence of the struggle... it adds to the instability... it completes the tower.... the tower of blobel...