99F-16 "Just in Time"

Santa Ana season is here. I sweat under the hot wind as I ride the motorcycle home from work as fast as traffic permits. The big gas station flag stands out southward. My skin itches, my eyes water and all I can do is hope tomorrow is better.

Build number:	99F-16 (lifetime start #172)
Title:	"Just in Time"
Date:	October 8
Location:	Venice Breakwater, south side
Start:	1200; building time: 5.5 hours
Height:	3.5 feet
Base:	1.75 feet, cylindric
Photography:	one roll RA135-24 w/LX and 85mm

1. Problems Puffs of wind go this way and that as I load equipment into the trailer. At least it's not strong and dry from the north. Maybe I can get this sculpture off. A hint of sea scent crosses Main Street, coming and going with vagrant breezes, but coming more than going. The flag on the lifeguard tower, when it moves at all, points inland. There is worse news underfoot. Even down where the receding tide has uncovered more beach the sand is coarse. Perhaps a combination of big surf and the ongoing construction on the storm drain it almost persuades me to abandon the effort. 2. Stage There is, however, a nice flat area just perfect for placing a sculpture. It's even damp. I'm here, the equipment is here, let's just see what we can do with this sand. After all, Larry would call it fine. So I resolve to make something simple within the engineering constraints of the native sand. At least I won't have to work so hard. "You're being ambitious." "Hi, Rich. Not so ambitious as it looks; I'm just using the big form so that the pile is larger in diameter. That way I can make the sections thicker. The sand is dreadful. I'll only fill it to here." "I see. And no filtering." "Nope. This stuff will barely go through the screen." Water disappears so fast through the sand that I have to add 10 gallons to every third addition of sand. At least there's not too much trash in it. I wander around the area, skimming the best of a bad lot off the top. It winds up being full to about three and a half feet, six inches more than intended. I got carried away. The wind continues fitful. Occasionally the flag lifts and moves around, making me think a kite might take off, but it always poops out. 3. Design I intend to continue the recent "stack of pieces" look that I like so much. This one, with its coarse sand, will be a challenge but at least a natural for the rounded edges and ends. Coarse sand doesn't hold sharp edges. Two thirds of the way up the east side I make the first cuts, defining the upper end of a bulbous vertical element. It fits into a socket cut into the domelike top. It's only half a dome, ending just west of the top with a drop-off that will become a large space. I intend to bring the vertical element's south face all the way over here and up to support the peak. With the pismo clam I start carving the surface below the top. Immediately it suggests something and the simple split leg idea goes out the window. What's left is more complex and will need a lot of work to make it come out well. Right now it's headed for a default at the top: a concave surface coming down to meet the big concave that starts with the vertical leg. That's boring so I work on separating it more. Eventually it develops into a convex part that tucks in under the half dome and curves north. The dome's south end develops a serious overhang above the big concave. Better be careful, Larry. What about the half-dome's north end? It can't just hang there. It descends in big scallops to the east but the north projection has to have something. It winds up being a heavy vertical undulating piece. Its mass is hidden in a number of in-and-out moves and interesting modeling details. 4. The Chase A glint of chrome catches the corner of my eye. It's Jim and his big truck, southbound. I feign panic, thrown down my hat and run like a movie actress down the beach. "You can run but you can't hide." Jim pursues me in the truck. I try to bury my head in the sand and this gets him to howling so he can't drive. "I'll be back here at the end of October." "That's good. I feel much safer now." As long as you stay in the truck, as Rich says. A congress of lifeguards takes place to the south. Jim and Dave scan with binoculars but the radio remains silent. "You get to stay dry." "This time." Who knows what will happen next. Shortly after they go on their way the lifeguard from the nearby tower pounds into the water. Rich and I watch. He's after someone whose head we can see between breaking big waves. The surf is powerful enough that the guard has to work to reach the swimmer, whose surfboard has washed up here. 5. Dry The half made sculpture is dry to the touch. Too much talking and watching; I give it a good spraying and probably should have done more but the sun is racing. It's hot. The very slow sea breeze does little to cool anything and brings no sculpture-sustaining spray over here from the spray shooting up from big surf against the rocks. 6. Carving All of my sculptures used to be done with sand like this. For some reason this one reminds me of a sculpture from 1994, when Rocket and his friend helped with the pile. Similar in size to today's, it was much simpler but still at the state of the art. This one is developing into a complicated piece, but its parts are well interlinked. I hope. A long leg drops and swings slightly around to the south. Midway down a big space opens up. It makes me nervous, but I had to do it to get daylight into a space on the other side; the dogleg original just wasn't visible. Now it's a three-portal space and the sand on the northwest is rather thin. The big leg farther around should help support things. The long leg's base is a concave surface. Boring. I bore a hole into it wondering where the outlet will be. "Does it count toward the Johnson Number if a hole doesn't go all the way through?" Rich gives me a look of lemon-eating. "I guess so." "I see. Forget I asked." The area is still boring. With some reshaping it takes on more interest. The far side of the hole comes out behind a bulging panel that holds up the lower end of the big concave side of the eastern leg. Now I just have to figure out the north side. Subtle carving redefines the direction of some curves. The sand feels very dry even after spraying and I'm beginning to worry. "You're actually going to do it!" "Yes. And I can blame the failure on you." I'm boring upward to join a new definition-space to the central space. "You're going up instead of down." "I think I can get away with this. And it improves the design." The hole goes through and the sculpture stays up. "That's about it, however. Just cleanup left to do." "You've been adventurous for the sand." "Yah. Too much daylight, too strong an itch built up over the last two weeks." 7. Light There are no clouds anywhere. No vapor, for that matter. Just spears of gold slashing the beach, making strong shadows. I set the exposure carefully and crawl around the sculpture. Rich shades the lens by standing in strategic places, which helps a lot. I never can tell what kind of photograph will look best so I shoot high-angle ones along with the usual vertical midpoint views. The latter have nice perspective, the former a more neutral background. Sometimes on days like this the light turns red when the sun is on the horizon. "I'll save a couple of shots for later. Might get some good color." "If we're lucky. I've shot mine at maximum zoom, trying to keep the sun out of the lens." Waves breaking against the rocks send spray high enough to eclipse the sun, casting quick shadows. 8. Too Dry After putting my camera down I decide to start cleaning up equipment. It's better to do this while I can see. Two women with babies in strollers struggle across the dry sand toward the sculpture. I drag my pack away from the trailer, then look down to untie the drawstring on my wind pants. It happened silently. When I looked up again the sculpture was only a finger of shattered sand amid rubble. It's a shock but not really a surprise.

"Well, Rich, I guess I engineered this one perfectly. It stood just long enough to photograph." "What? Oh, my." We examine the ruins. The western leg's base has tilted back about 15 degrees and has a big dent in the top from the impact of a chunk of sand. Other chunks lie around the base. The remnant has cracks all through it. We shoot a few photos of the interesting ruins then watch the sun set behind intermittent flying golden water. On our way to Manhattan beach for Lorna's birthday dinner we discuss this and other things.

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