One autumn evening, 50 years ago, while visiting my Grandparents' house, my Grandfather called me out onto the front steps to witness something he described as quite wonderful. Without describing what we were about to see, he directed my gaze to the sky, and then, to a slow-moving, star-sized, white light. After several minutes, when my eyes finally locked onto the moving light, he asked me to guess what I was looking at. I asked if it was a comet, a shooting star, a rocket or a plane. All wrong, he said. Then he told me. My Grandfather told me that the tiny light was a Russian spacecraft called Sputnik or Traveling Companion. He went even further, saying that it held within it a small dog named Laika.
Gullible as I was at age 7, I didnt believe it. I thought this was simply another elaborate tease
that grandfathers enjoy playing on grandchildren. Only after begging for the true story, did he hand me a newspaper, dated Nov 4, 1958, with a circled article and said "read this". It was true! I read it for myself and it was true! It probably seems puzzling to you that I relate this experience in any way to my current work, but I feel that there is something of it holding fast.
I believe it was one of the many moments in my life, which has cultivated my curiosity. The intangible aspects of my personal history have become joined into a mixture of marvel and discovery... an awareness of process and how things work. I believe this is the essence of what supports an idea, and, consequently, why we create the work. My work is generated out of this curiosity and from the awe I experience from my surroundings.
At all moments, I am standing on my Grandfathers steps.
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