Last night my great friend Ruth asked me to come keep her company at the GSU studio where she was working on her project since she is a 3-D sculptor major (or something pretty close to that). Just seeing all the bent metals, concrete structures, and half finished projects laying around was enough to know Ruth’s major is totally different from mine, and it reminded me of a class that would be offered at Hogwarts, so I got jealous.
Ruth’s sculpture was terribly convenient because it is made from three mattresses, so laying down with my MacBook was quite cozy. The gist of the sculpture is a bed sitting on a frame and from the middle of the bed a door is bursting, and so are the arms of a “monkster” as Ruth says. (I’ve given up on correcting her; she prefers to say “monkster” anyways.) I should have taken a picture of the door because she cut it at an angle so its frame was leaning, and it reminded me of Monsters Inc. I couldn’t help but revel in the idea that I was blatantly sprawled across a sclupture when usually sculptures can’t even be touched. Also, I found out that apparently you can buy a mattress from Habitat for Humanity for $1.00, which makes me want to blow 20-bucks and create an re-enactment of the children’s book “The Princess and the Pea” where she sleeps on top of all those mattresses (and a tiny pea). Anyways, I admire my friend Ruth for being able to think, “I wonder what it would look like for a door and two giant arms to come bursting out of a bed”, and then to create exactly that. As a writer I just described it in one sentence, but to physically make it is incredible. Part of me would like to cut a hole in someone’s mattress and cover it with a sheet so when they lay down they fall through the hole. It would work so much better than the whole “dig a whole at the beach and throw a towell over it” trick. Of course while I was doing my homework at the studio I tried to throw out a few suggestions to Ruth for her sculpture while she shot them down. I thought it would be cool to have flesh hanging off the monsters arms, but then I realized that was a bad idea. Hopefully whenever she has her bed-sculpture on display on campus somewhere I can go blatantly bounce all over it and smugly say, “It’s okay. I’m friends with the artist.”