As I mentioned in a previous post, I need to do something physical to ground myself after finishing a writing project, whether it lasts three months, three years, or—sometimes, painfully—longer. Recently, I found myself walking around our property, taking stock of the sculptures I’ve created over the years. In doing so, I realized I’d neglected to properly introduce the Headward family. They're a collection of primitive art pieces that look, well, primitive. The first Headward was inspired by the colossal Olmec heads residing at the National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City. I built him not long after we completed a pond alongside our house. I thought it would be interesting to have a sort of marker to track how much our property floods during hurricanes. As it turns out, Headward serves that purpose perfectly: when the water level in the pond rises by five feet, it reaches his eyebrows. Beyond that point, it’s uncharted territory—and we know we’re in trouble. Now, over 20 years later, Headward is still standing strong, weathered by time and the elements, aging gracefully as part of the landscape. Red Headward, is my favorite. Pardon the hurricane debris around him, but he's a good looking lad. He's rock solid and he'll be around for a hundred years or more. That's a lot of concrete built around four or five discarded care tires that we used for his armature. He's about five foot tall and perhaps two hundreds pounds.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
January 2025
Categories |