The Corrosion Collection
I first leave the bicycle chains out to rust. They sit all-a-jumble in a low pan filled with water. I add water again when it evaporates, making sure to reach the odd strand whose oil hasn’t yet burned off. (The shiny ones seem reluctant to let go of their last ride with someone… somewhere, perhaps the roads through the mountains nearby, an infinity of green leaves.) I lift the tangle, now orange with corrosion. It loosens as I pull a chain free, then settles back into a heap. I love the shapes they choose for themselves. I always try to honor that as I lay the metal upon the canvas. Like shuffling the deck and pulling a card. Or rolling the dice. Fate. Random luck. As is our lives. But then you MAKE something out of that. Each piece becomes an individual response to that unique shape.
