Exhume #6

Exhume #6 (166 S. Plymouth Rock), 2009, Ink on paper, 10.9 x 9.8 in

About this piece:

We lived on Plymouth Street in LA, so it seemed festive to place a large rock (just like the real Plymouth Rock!) on top of a time capsule on our lawn for our 1976 bicentennial block party. A few years later, for some reason known only to 10-year-old boys, I took a hammer to the rock and managed to just barely dent it. My arm hurt from the intense vibration and kickback of my small hammer blows against the very hard, large, solid rock. This was a stupid, futile, and strangely violent act. I wanted to damage it, break it, smash it, crack it. Remembering this event I’m left with a feeling of blankness and this question: why do some (most?) boys need to do these kinds of things?