Saturday, June 4, 2011

The Workshop Table

From time to time I help John create DRIP props at his warehouse downtown. On this particular day we were working in the parking lot and had his tools set up on a small wooden table. After a while it began to rain and we rushed to move everything inside. Despite the chaotic moment I became fixated on the table.


Marbled wood overlaid with crystal beads of rain. Organically out of place with all the dark metal and lifeless tarp hanging over the makeshift walls of the rental unit. 

John laughed as he saw me take a photograph of his table. I'm sure that to him it was just a simple surface, devoid of anything except a mess that needed to be cleaned. Through my eyes it looked completely different. 

Cast with the warming light from above it became an endless glossy field of texture. I wanted to run my thirsty fingers across the stippled grain; smearing droplets as though they were paint on a canvas blank with potential. Breathe in deeply as I destroy beauty in order to experience it. The photograph of this instant remains that tantalizing moment before you just give in. 

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