A climbing rose has appeared in my garden, likely planted by the garden gnomes, since I have no recollection of planting it, and I was thinking how grand it would be to have a sturdy trellis for it to climb. I have some scraps of cedar wood that would make a fine trellis, if I ever took the initiative to put them together. They have been under my deck for nearly three years, however, because I dislike any project involving tools that do not go into dirt, as well as anything requiring nails and screws.Fortunately, as I was walking around the neighborhood one Sunday evening, I discovered this deck railing on someone's trash pile. I considered returning home for my car, but I feared that another scavenger might happen along and realize its value, so I hoisted the thing onto my shoulder and made my way back home, looking like some bizarre performance artist.
Which made me wonder...since my carbon offset scheme...er...program went nowhere, perhaps I could apply for an artist's grant. I'll call it a sculpture, and use words like "oevre," "verticality," "ontological" "juxtapose," and "paradigm" in my artist's statement.
So what do you think of my piece? (Real artists just say "piece," which is short for "piece of scrap lumber I found on the side of the road." If you work in academia you know these things.) Is it a commentary on bourgeoisie striving, symbolized by a ladder leading nowhere? Or a subtle evocation of Jacob's ladder, probing the man-God dialectic in ancient Hebrew thought? (I gotta stop--this is like shooting fish in a barrel. I knew I should have finished grad school!)
