The reason I can't leave home is that I always chase my tail. I'm so busy going back to where I started that I never leave even though I am running and
trying as hard as I can. These stars are representive of that in a multitude of ways. First, my stepfather, whose at-home hobby craftsmanship was an
influence on my practical arts used to make these wooden wall hangings that consisted of a staircase mounted on wood and around it were 1-2 wooden stars. The
staircase and stars had small shelves that would lend themselves to holding very small items like statuettes, but I can't remember anything being that small
that it could sit on them. These items were cut from plywood and glued and what was most memorable about these is that they did not match the cursing son-of
-a-bith mother fucker who made them. This tattooed asshole made these cute little items when he wasn't cursing the world and threatening everyone's
existence. So stars and celestial characters dominated my artistic existence from the very begining as a contrast to reality.
I've done my fair share
of star gazing and I enjoy the relevance that exist between dimensions of space, light, matter and existence as a ponderable oddity that can consume my time.
However, the simplistic symbolism that has come to represent celebrity through stardom is forever a contradiction of relevance. Star gazing truly engages
the imagination whereas star stalking simply entertains the envious parts of the psyche. Needless to say I find myself in Hollywood, 20-30 years beyond my
welcome as a tourist. I did not step off that bus on Hollywood Boulevard at the end of the 70's to just step in the footsteps of the transient famous people
who occupied the squares under my feet. I was there to puke on them and fall down drunk. I was there to sell myself to be like them. I was there to burn in
hell while staring out into the night sky not seeing stars but helicopters blaring a like onto my naked ass.
I heard a radio broadcast of Dennis
Hopper a few weeks before his death as I imagined him hovering over a star with his name on it, honoring his work, as I felt sick to my stomach. I attributed
this infatutation he must've had with a star on the ground with his name on it to the influence the drugs were having on his brain. Obviously he had been on
morphine for too long leading up to the last few minutes of his life the people around him had to encourage him to preversley honor himself in such a way. I
won't go out like that. I won't let my fans down.
The only thing I can figure is that there is nothing symbolically equivalent to a true artist to
associate themselves with to represent their work beyond Oscars and Stars. Now I find myself influenced by these same stars, haunted by their existence and
tortured by their ubiquitousness. The materials that I have been working with have now given me a ludicrous imitation of the celebrity nonsense, but as I am
a captive to symbolism I have no choice but to continue in this path and create these things that I call "Fallen Stars". First to make a star you have to
have mastered making clouds. This I have done, but they are too elusive to be identified with by the masses as they are not intimidative like stars are.
Second, you have to work with bare elements like metals since the hot core of stars eventually cools to the elements that make up the solid matter of the
universe. Three, you have to be ridiculous in being, spirit and dress. My resume speaks for itself in this case, so I don't need to enumerate any
more.
The stars themselves are not intimidating, but are fragile pieces of plaster coated with bronze and steel in a thin veneer design that is
unique. Unique is Unique, why describe that which is obvious. I can make up uses for these items, objet d' art, coasters, flat ashtrays, I don't really care.
Personally I think they are perfect for throwing and smashing. Wipe your ass with them, I don't really care. I know once you have one in your space it won't
make any more sense than I have attempted to make for them because they are simply without meaning. It is all projections of reality, symbolism and purpose.
Why should we expect to be anything more than an ashtray for society or an asswipe for the government. The core of our existence is of course much more than
that, but I am not going to portray anything more than the contrast that they represent to the what and how we view stars. These are fallen stars, these
stars are the people we know, the real people in our lives. We don't have to understand them or use them, but we can if we need. These stars are fragile and
temporary, but made of stone. These stars are an accident in the making, but influenced by what we want to see in life.
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