I Am the Same Boy My Mother Used to Kiss

I was on a flea market thrift store run the other day when I saw this corn planter for $10.

Sometimes $10 seems like more money than I want to spend considering what I am going to do with a found object.  But on this particular day, this piece instantly called out to me.

Here is another irony:  I have a basement full of found objects.  In fact, I have so many found objects I am thinking that I have too may objects that I have found.  So, I really did not need to buy this piece.

But--then what would be the point of being a found object artist if I stopped buying stuff?

The figurative nature of this corn planter was what inspired me.  I scoured the afore mentioned found object laden basement to find some arms, legs, head and a baby.

Always start with how the piece is going to hang--it saves so much grief at the end.  

Some ribbon I had was attached to represent the effect of giving birth.  

Attaching the arms was an engineering feat.

Now it was time to prepare the baby's arrival.

While the baby was drying I began to paint up Mom.

The girl's got legs.  And they are going to fry float.

As time went on it turned out this piece was not heavy enough so I sawed a circular chunk of wood I had in the basement to add dimension to the central core of the figure and about five pounds to its weight.

When completed and assembled, this piece was not easy to hang.

This piece was juried into the Family ehibition at the Next Act Theatre to accompany their production of Motherhood Out Loud in April & May of 2016.

The title for this piece comes from the poem "Not Dying" by Mark Strand--
I am the same boy my mother used to kiss.