I went to the party at the Beer Can House yesterday. I’m glad I went though it meant leaving da fambly during the evening prime-time.
So I was walking the three blocks from the parking lot graciously provided by Otto’s Barbecue and the Beer Can House guided by the art cars that were shuttling back and forth. An art car, or actually an art cycle, pulled up and offered me a ride. It was more like a funky loveseat on a trailer pulled by a three wheeled motorcycle. But hey, I got to ride in an art car! Very Cool.
The party itself was okay. I didn’t know a soul there so I had a St. Arnold’s, skipped the food, made a voodoo doll which will go as decorations for the upcoming Orange Show Haloween Gala, toured the Beer Can House, and left. As I was walking away I had a tiny beer buzz, a sheen of sweat, and a coupla fingers burned by hot glue. Yep, I could tell I’d just been to an Orange Show party.
The Beer can house was very cool. The biggest impression I had as I walked up is how much noise it made in the breeze. The entire house was one big wind chime. And once you get past the eccentricity of a house covered in beer cans, once you get past the obvious beer drinking jokes, the house is really a monument to focus and persistence.
This is a big difference between me and John Milkovisch. I am eccentric only for moments at a time but he was a dedicated eccentric. When you get up close, his work had pattern and detail that was obviously sustained by a methodical process over many years. Plus, from the brands on the cans, he had to have drunk a lot of really crappy beer. Now that’s the definition of suffering for one’s art. I’m just not that into it.
But I did come away with a hankerin’ to do some of my assemblage sculpture again. I have sold or given away all of my junk crosses and did not leave one for myself. I might just have to make one soon.