My finished piece will be a roomful of sculptures, things that belonged to Drey. Every object— doodads and a diary, a bass guitar and amp, a wardrobe and a window, a record player and lamp, a chair, a rug, a ceiling, and walls— will be entirely handmade.
The viewer will be invited to peruse the room and piece together the details of Drey's life: He wanders the abandoned pencil factory looking for leftover pencils and hangs out at the petrified crash-landed flying saucer off Route 918. He and his fellow locals hunt songbirds for sustenance, and in simple honesty he stuffs and mounts them exactly as he found them in death. He smokes Oak Smokes cigarettes, drinks six-packs of Chevaline, and eats Rabbit Rinds chips. His favorite dish is chickadees with cheese. His "girly" magazines feature squirrels with acorn caps over all eight of their nipples.
He is experiencing an awakening in himself. From the diary: Why do trees have to smell so good? My walks are getting longer and longer cause I have to stop every few feet to sniff bark.
He is shy and naive, and he kills time with his friends until a series of events— beginning with the diner grease fire— spark a lust for life, whereupon he leaves home for Erie and the Unknown.
The contents of the room relate life in his world, which is between ours and another. The passengers of the stranded UFO have long since paired with the locals. Everyone gets along in this waiting room, a bardo where Drey readies himself for his coming rebirth.
The town newspaper, notes and letters, and a movie script written by Drey's friend Brian provide different views of life in Sparkleton. They, with the diary, accompany the several hundred sculptures, but are not necessary reads for comprehension of the piece, just as sifting through someone’s abandoned belongings is poignant enough without all the mysteries revealed. .
I hope that people will see my piece as they would someone’s real existence. It’s not so much a piece of artwork as it is a reflection of a life.
Sparkleton is not based on any real place except my brain. Little bits of everything around me (people and places) are woven in, amalgamated or as direct references. Northwestern Pennsylvania is an inspiration but it's not about Northwestern Pennsylvania at all. That said, sincere thanks to everyone I met in NWPA.
hrahli (AT) gmail (DOT) com
@arielko13
116 Pleasant Street
Suite 218
Easthampton, MA
01027
all images and original writing copyright 2003-2024 Ariel Kotker
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I suffer from Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. this affects the pace at which I work, and the degree to which I’m able to think about and create each piece. nevertheless, I need to do this work, and so I try my best, with as much moxie as I can muster