fidgeting

I've gotten into this odd habit over the past week or so. I've yet to decide if it's good, bad, or indifferent. But, every time I'm on the phone and sitting at my drafting table, I end up grabbing my kneaded eraser and my Xacto knife. From there, I kinda just go at it, mindlessly cutting and talking away at the same time. Before you know it, I've got some sort of eraser masterpiece sitting before me. On most occasions, I just squish it all back together once I hang up the phone. Yesterday, however, I got rather attached to the twelve little pieces that I had created. They reminded me of little crustacean-like creatures or insects from some undiscovered genus or species..... which, in my mind, made them worthy of being photographed before facing their doom.

I was reminded, upon photographing these tiny pieces, of a sculpture project I did at UConn. We were given vegetables and told to cut them, mutilate and alter them, attach them together with toothpicks and then photograph them. By the end, we had these sculptures that, in many cases, were unrecognizable as part of the veggie family. And, photographing them against a sold white background allowed them to be removed from their normal sense of scale. Just looking at the photos, you really have no concept of how large or small they actually are. And, I liked imagining my radish creations standing many yards above my head. Perhaps the same goes for my erasers. You know from my descriptions that there are just teeny pieces, no longer than a half an inch. Yet, without explanation, maybe they could pass for large clay tablets, spread across a gallery floor. See them for what you will.