Mike’s sculpture for Amy (Amos). He busted it out in a day, not quite done yet, has to be fired and glazed.
This sculpture is dedicated to Amos, in all her madness and psychotic, scary, broken moments
THIS IS AN ESSAY ABOUT MIKE, MY BEST FRIEND –FROM AMOS
“MATTERS OF TIME”
He is standing at the end of the dock with a cigarette hanging from his dry lips. When the sun rises soon, it will warm his bare feet on the planks of warped wood–just inches above the soft water. His spirit belongs to older generations–an ancient part about him that sent him away from cities and busy people, never trying to chase or capture time. Maybe it was because of the rheumatoid arthritis; (more…)