art letter / no. 1. 2019 / january
A Charcoalized Hedge
My stepdaughter, Jillian, and I were heading to lunch. We could smell the legacy of the fire before we could see it: A freshly gutted pizza restaurant. Immediately to its north was a sculpture of charcoal skeletons, lined up in military precision.
Others might have seen an incinerated arborvitae hedge. I saw the sculpture—or, at least, the potential for a sculpture. All I could do was stare. But Jillian urged me to act. So, after lunch, I went back home, got my bow saw, and went to work.