Chapter twenty-seven
Bess
Veryrarelyhasthereever been any silence at Tuesday Night Art Fight. There should be, given it's a space for people to work uninterrupted on their artistic endeavours, but with the mix of large and quirky personalities, the dynamic tends to be fairly electric.
However, I have the arguably enviable achievement of having caused a sound vacuum.
It goes on for a full minute.
It's not exactly the reaction any artist wants when they reveal the project they're working on, but at least I can be proud of having a first. Even if it's akin to a void.
Elly breaks first. "Explain again why you've done this?"
I defensively wrap an arm around the shoulders of the sculpture – a wire-framed soldier. "He needs to be realised."
"It's a bit Frankenstein's monster," says Jeanette with her customary sparkle of a laugh.
Tightening my grip, I say, "It'snot a bitlike Frankenstein's monster. I'm not going to bring him to life."
"You're constructing your ideal man," says Ed quietly.
Maybe I am. I shrug my shoulders. "Possibly. What's wrong with that?"
"It's weird," says Elly.
"I think it's beautiful," says Lutek. "You're creating art that expresses an ideal. Lots of art does."
"Thank you, Lutek."
"Except she's in love with it," says Elly. "It's not right to be in love with an object, even if it is art."
I laugh. "I'm notin lovewith it. I have an emotional attachment to the man who wrote the letters, but 'love' is a ridiculous notion." I add, "Obviously," but I'm not sure if it's for my benefit or theirs.
"Then why are you making it?" asks Elly.
Turning to face the sculpture, I say, "I need him to be more of a reality than some vague imagining, more than the mystery I've been presented with." The six-foot man-shaped frame has all the letters I've received pasted on various parts of his body. When he's finished, he'll look like he's made of papier-mâché. "I've got to know him one letter at a time, so it's like I'm piecing him together."
"But there aren't enough letters to cover an entire man," says Lutek.
"I know. Mistral's photocopied them for me so I'll have enough. It shouldn't matter that the letters are replicated, as long as they look authentic. I wouldn't stick the original letters to the frame anyway."
Another silence.
Carlos breaks it by asking. "Why are there holes in him?"
In places, I've cut the mesh so that there are small openings – gaps in which one can place fingers, or eyes to look inside him. "Those are the parts I'll never know. His mysteries. The bits that got censored by the military."
"Ooh, I quite like that representation," says Jeanette. "It definitely makes it more romantic. If that's your aim?"
"If!" Elly's hands are on her hips. "When he's done, are you going to put him in your house and have a relationship with him like some completely unhinged person?"
"No," I say with a patience I'm surprised to find I possess. "I've posted a couple of short videos of his construction on my TikTok. Have you not seen it?"
"I don't have TikTok," says Jeanette.
"Some of us have been too busy making art to sell," says Elly.
"I have," says Carlos.
