It has been a busy summer with much created, including some bibliolage videos, which I hope to post soon. But then, too, I've been ruining some books, including a book called Ruin, a large photo book of collapsed architecture. The delights of decay. Wonderful quantities of emptiness to fill.
Age does that to you, pull you back into the emptiness of time past, give you the urge to glue something into it.
It took a while to find something right, and then I realized it should be Arnold Palmer. Palmer was a winner when these structures were new.
And an army followed him, of the sort that wouldn't alarm, in the day of the bomb: Arnie's Army.
Then Nicklaus came along, and the winning got harder.
No one showed the struggle to win better--and the pain of loss, a missed putt, a flier from the fairway into the trap, a drive that went the wrong way.
I got about two thirds of the way through the Palmering of Ruin before I knew something was missing.
Then one day I was in the department mailroom, and there in the recycling bin was this Eurotard catalogue.
Somehow that seemed right.
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