Six legs in clay for a table

Six Legs

Six legs - Clay models

I was just sorting out images and trying to keep up with new resolutions concerning the formation of an archive – one I hoped would save me the excessive time it takes to find documentary evidence of my work – when I came upon a folder tucked away with several images of objects whose existence never was fully realised. It is called “Legs” and contains pictures of a long series of supiports for furniture quickly modelled in the same state of mind and hand used over the history of table-using mankind. They are formed by pinching the clay (or warm wax), stabbing it with a spoon or rolling it to flatten the details.

Two thoughts come to mind. One has to do with the debris (sketches, models, designs, photographs) buried under any finished work of Art…never to see the light of day unless a shimmer catches the attention while looking for something else. (Having an iPhone always at hand means that some evidence of these fragments is at least conceivable however chaotic their distribution.)  The second thought – and one I find comforting – is that the lost work is a necessary precedent for what follows. And it seems to me, although this may be defensive reasoning while I struggle over my archive, that there is something salutary in coming across these while I am meandering through my hard drive.

This may be because I am no longer attached to the work. I can discover it with the same kind of pleasure and even affection I feel while walking with Frankie, my dog, while I stop to pick up a porcupine quill.