Gary Schroeder
the artist
he roams the cosmos (well, actually, his local neighborhood)
in search of reasons to devote himself exclusively to his art. He
wages fierce battles with people that believe that a pen squiggle on a
piece of composition paper is to be regarded as highly as an
impressionist painting because no one can adequately define the
boundaries of "art" and "nonsense". He has a secret devotion to
Kellogg's Pop Tarts, but cannot bring himself to purchase them while
he might be observed.
the art
His art is made from physical things that can be touched,
held, and looked at without any electrical power devices. Imperfect
though it may be, it can be folded, mutilated, and saved for future
viewing years from now if stored carefully enough under the couch. It
has wrinkly edges and splinters that can jab if left unprotected.
the beret
His beret: he has a beret that is a cool blue, periwinkle type
of thing. It's relatively new, and he's careful to hang it up after
each creation experience so that it dosen't get too bloated or too
deflated. He has a thing about not mussing it up, in case anyone
should see him in it after an accident of some sort. He thinks about
watering it to make it expand a bit, but he's concerned that the
overwatering rule for plants might apply to his beret as well.
Perhaps a commercially available fertilizer would be a safer appraoch
to the problem.
Submitted by Gary Schroeder (schroede@bnlux1.bnl.gov), on Wednesday, August 3, 1994, from Long Island, New York, USA