Bodies of Knowledge

There is a hushed hustle and bustle in a college library on a Sunday night. A party where the dress code was sweat pants and a big jacket for the cold walk back to your dorm; and last call was an hour past any of the bars in town. I sat in the mezzanine, hired dj of the night. Tasked with the job of busting out fat books and keeping the printers pumping for the students buzzing off of caffeine, nicotine, and adderall.

Shoulder to shoulder they cram around tables. Drawn together not to work towards a common goal, but to support each other in their common struggle. As I did my rounds I would jump from foxhole to foxhole, listening to the losing battles every student was waging against the dreaded due date. Each time returning to my desk feeling a sense of comfort that I wasn’t alone.

These all-nighters, procrastinators, and turn in later’s, are the original inspiration for my sculptures. Both are over flowing with an absurd amount of old knowledge. Books deemed outdated, under used, over used, and simply no longer relevant. The only difference was mine were free. All of them withdrawn from the shelves and walls insulating the library I worked in.

In the world of the pandemic, libraries were one of the first to close. A non-essential business with too many at risk employees, and just like that study rooms and bedrooms became one and the same. No longer could students feel the comfort that comes from seeing others fail and flail along side them. Using these formless beings I put a face to the hardships of homeschooling. I shared my own experiences and self deprecating sense of humor to create a yearbook for the school we all found ourselves attending. A school where we were simultaneously the new kid, and the only kid.

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