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What is it?
It's a fantasy, purely an object from my imagination. All art is interactive; you get to make up your own mind. I express in sand what I cannot in any other way.
How long have you been doing sand sculpture?
I made my first arch in 1982, after thinking about it for a couple of years. Since then my technique has changed a lot, and I've gotten better.
How did you get started?
A friend and I were on a beach in Maine, and I got this idea to make an arch out of sand. It seemed difficult, but possible. Two years later, I figured out how to make the arch. The next year, I was making an arch and realized I was bored. Something let go in my mind and the arch changed. They continue to change; each one is an experiment.
How did you learn how to do this?
I'm self-taught. As new problems have come up, I've figured out ways to solve them, step by step. My first sculpture was an arch about eight inches tall. Since then my designs have evolved, from just trying to solve the engineering problems to combining space and shapes in interesting ways.
How long does it take to make the sculpture?
Little ones--up to about four feet--take five to ten hours. Big sculptures take longer.
Do you take any pictures?
Yes. I usually do a complete walkaround sequence, wherein I move about 20 degrees between shots. If there is nice light, I shoot some that show the sculpture in its environment. Photography takes an hour or two.
What do you do with the photos?
I have prints made and keep them in albums at home. It's interesting to look at them over the years to see how my sculptures have changed. I sell prints, too, and scan some for posting on my World Wide Web sites.
Are you an artist?
The answer depends on how you define "Artist." I don't make my living doing sculpture, which leaves me free to do exactly what I want. I prefer to call myself a "sand sculptor" because that's the straight truth; I'll leave the art question to others.
Do you work in any other materials?
I have done a few sculptures in plaster, and some in clay. Now I'm thinking about wood, or perhaps other materials that I can work without tools. A big part of the reason I sculpt is that I enjoy making it directly with my hands.
What do you do for a living?
I'm an electrician for the City of Los Angeles, helping keep computerized traffic signals running.
How long will it last?
Unless someone knocks it over, the sculpture will stand until the next high tide. Typically, that's about twelve hours. It depends on where I'm building and the phase of the moon.
Why sand?
I like sand. It feels good, it's wonderfully sensitive, it's cheap, and I get to work on the beach, a great studio. The waves crash, the sun moves, the sea wind keeps me cool and I can hear the gulls cry. Pelicans fly past, riding waves of air, and people stop and talk. I like being here. See the About Sand section.
Doesn't it bother you to have the whole thing disappear?
Yes, a little, but it's part of working with sand. I come to the beach knowing the sculpture is temporary. Still, a sand sculpture lasts longer than a musical performance, or a poetry reading. Some sculptures are particularly good; they're harder to abandon because more of me is in them. Is anything in the world permanent?
Do you destroy it when you're done?
No. I'm a maker, not a destroyer.
Have you ever been in a contest? Yes, a few. I plan to continue, because they're fun. It's a feeling unlike any other to be among a group of people so intensely working to make their ideas real, in a medium that's temporary. Competing won't change my main interest, which is simply to make sculptures.
What holds it together?
The sand is very tightly packed. Water's surface tension, and electrostatic charges, hold the grains together, when the pile is made well. See the How I Do It and About Sand sections.
What makes the horizontal lines?
Sand grains are of many different colors, and they settle at different rates through the water standing in my form as sand is added and packed. See the How I Do It section for more information on this.
Can I touch it?
Please don't. It looks solid, and it's very heavy, but it's actually very fragile. I have to be extremely careful as I carve to keep from knocking it down. It has taken many years for me to learn just how to touch the sand so I can shape it without destroying the sculpture. Even with that experience, I lose about one sculpture in seven starts. That's how I learn.
Is there anything in there but sand?
Yes: water. Sand provides the entire structure, but water holds the sand grains together. See the How I Do It section of this document.
Do you start with a preconceived idea of what you want to do?
I frequently have a basic idea, which is embellished as I work and the sand speaks to me. Sometimes I have a specific idea I want to make, and I adhere to that. Occasionally, I have no idea what to do, and simply start carving.
Why do you do it?
Sand sculpture is real. Most of what we do is abstract: we work all day to make money so we can buy televisions to watch pictures of other people doing things. Today depends upon tomorrow. Sand sculpture is no abstraction; it's here now, each moment of its life an expression of changing balances. It is not a model, or a prototype, or a test. It is what it is, right there solid on the beach, and it'll be gone tomorrow. I do it, active, sweating real salt, making real cuts that can't be put back. I like using my hands. And... the sculpture disappears. It's the only possible expression for a man who must be invisible.
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