99F-18 "75 Pounds of Love"

My hand digs in, then stops. Ouch! This low-tide sand is loaded with rocks and sharp-edged shells. The high-tide sand is very coarse. I need to do more sculpture. Each one is such an investment of time and energy, and so infrequent, that it's very hard to build within one idea. They all want to be built. It won't happen this weekend, however. The logical next step occurs to me at work. If John can take a day off for lounging around the house I should be able to get one for a sculpture. The tide is right Thursday.

Build number:	99F-18 (lifetime start #174)
Title:	"75 Pounds of Love"
Date:	November 4
Location:	Venice Breakwater, south side
Start:	1030; building time: 6 hours
Height:	4.3 feet
Base:	1.75 feet, cylindric
Photography:	approx 16 exp RA135-24 w/LX and 85mm

1. High-priced Help The high-tide sand is still coarse and the low-tide area is even more full of rocks, shells and tiny clams than before. No problem; I have the whole kit today and can deal with the rocks. There's no longer enough daylight available for me to finish a full-height piece to reasonable standards so this one will be short. I turn the first shovelful of sand for its base. "I get to watch the beginning! I've never seen this part before." "Hi, Jim. What happened to your red trunks?" "I'm on workout." "Good. I have just the plan for you." He buys it and is soon carrying water. "This stuff is heavy." "Tell me about it. Now you know why I appreciate help so much. That's 80 pounds I don't have to carry." "They're not quite full. More like 75. That's 75 pounds of love, baby!" True enough for me. The base is soon finished. "What do I do now?" "Carry sand. See the sample pit down there? Take off the top four inches or so." He traipses up and down the beach, making easy work of it. I pack like a demon; the day is short. Jim doesn't know when to quit. Water and sand in endless supply and the form is soon full, at least a foot taller than planned. Well, I can't say "No," can I? The tamping stick, faithful companion on over a hundred sculptures, splits. Its end plug pushes back up and I have to use the #1 Loop tool for packing. There's no time for repairs. 2. Devolution of Simpicity The plan is for a simple arch over the top, with another under it, with plenty of space separating them. The initial arch goes well, nice and smooth courtesy of the filter which removed something like 100 pounds of clams and rocks from the sand. I start the second arch too high so there's not enough clearance to work inside. A new idea suggests itself: wrapping the top arch's base around and upward so that it becomes the lower arch. The reality in sand doesn't match the mental model's elegance; I have a strong tendency to overelaboration. Subtlety, Larry. Suggestion, hints. You don't have to beat it over the head with a stick. The western aspect is the strongest showing of the original simple idea. Elsewhere I've lost it in a welter of confused ideas and there's no time for rethinking. The light hasn't changed much but Rich has his jacket on and I feel day's end coming. "Tell me, Larry, do you find the accompaniment of machinery noise and exhaust an inspiration?" "Of course, Jim. I live in Los Angeles. If I can't see the air I'm uncomfortable. Yeah, right. I'll be glad when those guys are gone." In the background the sandblasting, concrete pouring and digging go on. 3. Compromise Finish Standards "Well, Rich, that's about it. I'd better finish this thing or it'll be dark." "My camera's already flashing on every exposure." "I hope my fast lens is fast enough." Basically, I'm disappointed. Instead of the strong, simple sculpture I envisioned we have a confusion of parts. It's not all bad. "I like it. Strong moves." I guess my ideas have outstripped my ability to make them. I was running short of time even in late summer and even if I had time I wouldn't have energy. I can't see beyond what I want to what I have, but it'd be a better sculpture if I cut the lower foot and a half off. "I guess so, Rich. I'm not quite pleased." But it's better than just about anything from last year. 4. Fade The light is gradually going away, sun setting beyond the level cement sky. Two die-hard surfers wait for a half-decent wave. A few others walk the beach on this cold Thursday. "I'm using F/1.4 at a 60th, Rich. That's why you're flashing." "Yes. When zoomed it's at F/8.6." The Sculptor's Palsy isn't too bad so I should be able to get away with the slow shutter. Toward the end of my walk around the camera indicates a desire for an even longer shutter. We've just about filled this day. "Time to write this file. I'm cold." "I agree." We load up and pull the trailer across the darkening sand.

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