In grade 6 art instructor John Fure introduced me to the concept of assemblage sculpture. For the next 6 years that single form of creative expression played the second greatest roll in my life.

I can’t remember exactly what I made for that project. Crude for certain. I somehow became obsessed with a wind-up alarm clock that I could still activate the alarm hammer on. I know that played a greater roll than it should have.

Then I went on to alteration of other people’s failed model car projects. Destruction plays well in the early teen years.

The farm had lots of interesting remnants lying about. I started to go big, making things over 6 foot tall.

My freshman year of college I enrolled in a sculpture class and continued my work. And there it ended. Done. I just stopped, really.

A few years ago I attempted a simple piece from repurposed items. The knife below was the result. A mix of post-apocalyptic and pirate. While not thrilled with it, I do like having it in my knife collection.

So WHY did I stop? I don’t really know. Space, perhaps. A farm with a shop gave me the room to create my large assemblage dreams. Moving to an urban setting saw me experiment with polymer clay, colored pencils, and chalk pastels. And of course the foray into digital art that got me a degree I ended up not using much.

But I sometimes wonder what I would create if I had a large, rural space again…

Repurposed

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