Weary, But Not Done.

Today is the day I usually check the sculpture at Conshohocken State Road and City Avenue.  And, as usual, it had fallen down.  (No, I think it actually did fall down.  Well, of course, it did fall down, but I mean it did so due to natural factors.)  I hadn't done a good job of re-building it last visit as my wife was waiting in the car for me, and I could feel the pressure growing, growing ...  Thus, I rushed, and thus, it fell.  This time was no different, and I just couldn't lift the large granite rock onto the second level.  (At least, not without pulling out my back, AGAIN.)  After the third time, I left it where it was, figuring that the rock sculpture muse must like it there, and built around it.  Ended up being very pleased with the result.

Leaving the Conshocken State Road sculpture, I went to the Wawa in Narberth.  Wasn't surprised to see the sculpture in front of The Hamper Shop was down.  I didn't like it when I had built it, but wasn't ready to invest the time to make it nice.  Got my coffee, went home (looked at "Help Wanted" ads), and returned to The Hamper Shop.  Infused with that wonderful Wawa rendition of the elixir of the Gods (coffee), I built una mas grandio rock sculpture.  Took lots of time making sure it was balanced well and cemented many areas of it.  Enjoyed listening to my new I-Pod Nano, which I finally learned how to turn on and off, while creating this beauty.

Even I Grow Weary

Three of my usually sturdy rock sculptures were down today.  Could it be the birds?  Could it be the squirrels?  Could it be unknown forces of nature from outside our universe?  (Dark energy?)  I think not.  The short wooden fence I placed near the large Wynnewood Train Station sculpture was completely apart as well.  So I'm thinking that there was human intervention involved.  (Actually think it was sub-human intervention.)
No matter who or what, I'm getting tired of investing my time, sore back and aching arms in this venture.  Just as my retirement produced a short-term stir of loss among some of my patients, the absence of these rock sculptures will not be sorely missed.  Just ask Picasso or Matisse (oh, they're dead - don't ask them, they won't answer) if they would be missed if they didn't paint another picture.  I've certainly left my mark on this world (after all were Picasso or Matisse ever interviewed by The Philadelphia Inquirer?).

But, of course, I did rebuild the rock sculptures.  Not with great enthusiasium or imagination (yo, it's like 92 degrees out there!), but I did re-build them.  Let's see how long they stay intact.  This whole endeavor into the world of street art may end soon.  And then all (4) of you interested readers will have more free time to invest in more significant pursuits.