More on the boxes

For a while I thought it would be a good idea to fill the boxes with styrofoam (which Tom Wolfe would capitalize) peanuts.  The idea being to add some heft to what will otherwise be a bunch of empty boxes.  Then I came up with the idea of using that expanding insulation foam instead.

And now I can't stop thinking about boxes.  My first one will be titled "Preet Bharara holds the Head of Steven A. Cohen Aloft in the Manner of Perseus and Medusa."  Because, as often as not, I like to start with a title.

And of course one wonders how to get the foam into the nearly finished sculptures.  By this I mean they're assembled and primed and maybe have received a coat of polyurethane.  Then it hit me.  Screw-on PVC caps.  Bulging out the sides of the boxes!  Like this one, except black, obviously ...

Could you just die?  Like some demon-spawn mash-up of Louise Nevelson ...

... And this thing, which stands in Cooper Square in the East Village, a mere block and a half from McSorley's Old Ale House.

Plus that whole Tony Smith business.

I can't stop thinking about these fucking boxes.