A week before the day of, we assemble the bubble. I had painted the nebulous ceiling with spray paint, and was quite proud of the level of detail accomplished, although the lighting in my garage made it impossible to capture neither its glory nor the lingering, gagging smell of spray paint. While I let the universe thaw in my garage for a few days, it started teeming with life. Several things got stuck in it: bugs, lawn clippings, a stray leaf, dog hair. When it had gathered enough authenticity, I rolled it up and took it to our assembly space.
Caleb and Ore worked on putting the bubble together, while I assembled art that went inside it. Here’s what each of them had to say about the day’s experience:
Caleb: “It looked a lot easier on video. Cutting the sheets of plastic took a lot of time, and the results were not as I expected. There was a lot of doubt, but when it finally blew up, it was cool. People were walking by the room, looking in, and wondering what in the world we were doing.”
Ore: “My knees hurt. Best feeling was when the bubble finally blew up.”
The bubble worked, eventually. A box fan was responsible for blowing air into it and keeping it inflated. We had pieces of a talking poem, which was a work in development for a future show. We had an anamorphic tree installation. No clouds, no lighted city, and a peeling universe on the ceiling.
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