Last night the weather dropped and the furnace came on, keeping the place nice and toasty. This morning in my basement while fetching something, a dark shiny streak caught my eye. I drew back the curtain between my studio and adjacent room to find a long puddle. My steam pipe sprung a leak over my rolling mill, fortunately it was covered and hadn't been wet too long.
Now I need to replace 12 feet of pipe along my studio wall. It's time to move bookcases ( I am so glad no books were wet) shelves of supplies and work tables to clear the way for the plumbers. So ironic that my last piece is a of a rusted water stained house!
I think this piece not only examines weather change concerns but is also informed by my life experience. I rented and lived in apartments and cities my whole childhood and adult life. If you live on the eleventh floor a blizzard is something you experience when you step out into the street, but when you live in a house burst pipes, leaking roofs, falling trees literally hit much closer to home.
In the grime and decay of the city the force of nature is apparent in the persistent vegetation sprouting along train tracks and in sidewalk cracks, such a contrast to the comical battle of growing a well manicured lawn in the suburbs. The materials I am working with now would never have entered my consciousness if I didn't now live in a suburb.