"Oh, god, they live everywhere. Clothes, drapes, lint in your belly button --Not any more."
"Kind of makes you think."
"What do you mean? About what?"
"About your cabin, about the unseen civilizations, about the parallel universe."
"Don't you wonder what you wasted in there? Moms, Dads, universities, shopping malls."
"Oh Chris, they're just bugs."
"Yeah, but who knows what kind of socio-cultural structure they've cooked up in this microscopic melting pot."
"Universities?"
"What do you think WE look like in the big picture? We're the third stone from the sun. There's 200 billion stars in this galaxy alone. How do you know we're not going to get snuffed out by some giant, cosmic dehumidifier
--there's going to be some humongous hit-man sitting on a bar stool in the Crab Nebula cracking up over our demise."
- Chris ponders Maggies dehumidifier
with a medieval siege weapon known as a trebuchet. Chris is our local D.J.,
a self-taught, ex con, mail-order minister with a passion for the
transcendent. The piano in question was a 1943 Baldwin upright--good, solid
mahogany which had been hauled all the way to Alaska... Ed knew that Maggie
ended up with this piano and had no use for it, Chris got it free of charge
and the fling was on. Chris told us all to meet him out at Ivory Springer's
farm where... flew into space, leaving a vapor trail of broken keys in its
wake, and when at last it fell to earth and broke into a million pieces, our
spirits were elsewhere, somewhere still aloft in the clouds."
- Ruth-Ann's "Tales of Cicely" on N.P.R.
event. A miracle is something that defies nature. Only, childbirth has got
to be the most natural thing in the world. Top three anyway. But, on the
other hand, when you think about it, there's really no other word that fits.
Sperm. Egg. A coincidental meshing of genetic information that will grow
something that could write an opera or cook up some Napalm. It blows my
mind."
- Chris to Maggie and Joel
"Me too."
"Some people really dig the thematic subtext."
"The what?"
"The way you link the Christ imagery with the reborn piano."
"I did no such thing Chris."
"Unintentionally maybe."
"I was just trying to tell a good yarn."
- Chris to Ruth-Ann
"No, not really."
"Of course you don't. What was I thinking? I keep tearing it apart, putting
it back together. It just doesn't work. I never had a solstice like this
before. Usually I'm focused, the piece, it flows. Last year a Neogothic ice
palace, Lake Eagle. Year before that, metal cocoons. I took an entire acre
of spruce, I wrapped it in tin foil. But, this thing here is a monstrous
screaming zero. I got all this juice, and I got nowhere to plug it in."
- Chris to Lance, on his sculpture
you've got the benefit of all my doubts."
- Maurice to Chris, on his sculpture
can) is a process. It begins in the heart and the mind with the eyes and hands. Now Picasso said, 'The pure plastic act is only secondary. What really counts is the drama of the pure plastic act, that exact moment when the universe comes out of itself and meets its destruction.'"
"Uh, I'd still like people to like my paintings."
"Yeah, of course. The thing we have to do with you Holling is get your ego out of the product and put it back into the process."
- Chris and Holling discuss art
- Leonard to Ed
