Splendid, Part 1

We arrive midday in Saratoga at the Tang Museum to an overcast sky and a general confusion by the staff about the needs of an outdoor installation artist. This is typical. In precise and direct language Sterz repeats his needs and before long we are ready to prep the grounds for setup. The rain is the most difficult part but not impossible which requires a necessary solution, how to protect the electronics, three projectors and DVDs, from moisture in the elements or the piece can’t run. No panic, just a sustained effort in audible banter about what may work. We needed supplies anyway so head to the home depot to get them and seek solutions. Plastic was the first choice but I loathe synthetics unless necessary for electronic display and even then it’s an aesthetic or presence problem. We looked at plastic bins, lids, drains and flashings to cover the sizes necessary. After sweeping the entire store, Sterz, Eric and I make off with the necessities but without equipment cover. We have a day to solve it.

Back at the grounds, in a light drizzle, we hammer the copper stakes down with some difficulty into the shallow shale and limestone soil and erect the sails for projection when the cellphone rings. “Unknown Call,” which could mean mom or creditors. I answer. “Dan.” It’s mom. “Hi mom. I’m in Saratoga at the moment installing a Sterz piece in the most beautiful surroundings. There’s baby Ducks walking all through our work, fearless little guys, you would love it.” There were actually two families of Ducks from the pond below who were unfazed by our pounding and sort of swarmed around our work site to look on and check out the action. It was magic and I couldn’t think of anyone more excellent to share it with. “Oh, I need something like that right now.” She’s crying and I could hear it. My heart dropped. “What’s wrong mom?” “There’s an explosion in New York and I’m just worried. Peter lives in midtown now now and I never know where you are and.” I interrupt, “what are they saying?” “Nothing conclusive yet, I just worry and,” she sniffles a bit which drops my heart. A man can take torture and divorce and all sorts of abuse but a mother crying sets off a whole flood of chemistry. I listen. “Nothing’s conclusive, they’re saying it’s a steam pipe but no one knows if it’s terrorism or if anyone got hurt. No one is saying.” She says this in a level headed sort of way, nothing hysterical but still the tears get to me. I tell the boys, who look concerned but continue working. Mom’s struggled with a whole bunch of life changes and the reality of life in the greater NYC area is tense. For most people it is tense. So tense in fact that even the liberal bastards like me won’t tolerate another single incident that’ll bring the house down and make my mother cry for Christ’s sake. That’s the deal in my heart now, come and help and be a part of making something better or don’t come. Especially don’t come to destroy shit. Same goes for US policy, don’t send out bombs to wreck shit unless you are absolutely sure that it’s surgical. Fighting cancer is a reality so I gotta keep lines open, even for military. “Well, keep me informed and I’ll call back at the hotel.” “I’ll probably not know much more because they’re not saying anything but I’ll call if so. But I called to let you know that I sent a check out. It’s not much but it’ll help you get through the summer.” My heart drops lower. I need it. “Thank you. I’ll look for it.” It’s well past the age where I can comfortably ask for help from family but my Mother always knows. The last check I never cashed but this one I’m going to need. I’m stunned. She’s crying as much because of the descriptions of our days work as for the anxiety over potential violence in the city. Her actions are awash with goodness. “OK, I’ll call if I hear anything.” “Ok. I love you.” And I head back to the task at hand which produced a fine blister on my right pointer finger.

Later I ask Sterz what he was thinking. He replies, “I was thinking, the terrorists have to be the best terrorists they can be, the ducks have to be the best ducks they can be and I have to be the best artist I can be. So I continue working.” They are good words. We move back to problem solving mode and go find a good bar.