The Theory of Everything Disguised as a Handbag
Perhaps I should explain. Here you will find artful renditions of genetic cocktails. Except that the bartender/genetic engineer, rather than mixing ingredients found in a specific recipe, threw all the day's leftover DNA into the blender. Ta da!
Are these unusual objects or what!? Yea I know. Sometimes I get these urges to make weird things. Or is it weird urges to make things? No need to analyze the psychological underpinnings. Whatever you think was the reason is your interpretation, and of course, you're welcome to it!
I sometimes like to think of myself as a sane mad scientist, creating creatures that represent an absurdity that otherwise would remain unrealized. I would be a true mad scientist if these were real. As it is, they are just images flittering through my imagination, made on occasion, into art.
I was painting a handbag aka Portable Sculpture the other day, having fun layering colors, giving it that extra bit of "I enjoy being weird" kinda vibe, when suddenly, as if delivered via cosmic spitball to the side of the head, a question occurred to me: "Why am I making this anyway?"
Almost as quickly an answer to this odd enigma entered my conscious awareness, stunning me with its absurd possibility: What if, and this only a theory of course, a supposition, a possible answer to the ultimate question and nothing more, but what if the reason I was making such a weird construct in the guise of a purse, an accouterments of fashion du jour, was because I was being sent a symbolic message from another dimension of reality!?
If so, perhaps someone or something was trying to send me a clue, in the only way it had of communicating between dimensions -- slipping this odd symbolic form into my subconscious, which I would then feel compelled to sculpt in a form that could be experienced in the dimension of reality I inhabit, that is, here in 3D.
But what was the message?
The answer seemed obvious (at least at the time), there was no why to it, and that was the point! It was so surreal and nonsensical in order to dismantle, albeit briefly, my sheltered little view of reality; in order that I may know, this answer: The reality that I feel and breathe, the world that I experience as living in, including my foibles, follies and fracas, are really the dream world of my real self -- residing in that other dimension.
The experience of this world of sense and sensation seems real and tangible, seems to have substance and be composed of solid matter. But look a little deeper beneath the beguiling surface, embrace for a moment the absurd, and one might just find, life is a confection of quantum possibilities, but not any real thing at all.
And then, the higher dimension that creates the shadow of reality I exist in on this lower dimension, is in itself a lower dimension from a higher dimension above it as well.
In other words, there is really no point in the why of a Debra Gavant handbag. Wearing it will create its own reality!
The more practical details are these one of a kind art couture sculptures are created with rock hard epoxy clay. Hammering it does little to them but make a loud noise. They are painted in multiple layers of acrylic color and sealed. Interiors are lined with garment suede, gold plate over solid brass hardware...individuality ensues....