gazebo of junk (fun with links)

This place was ripe with trash when we started clearing nearly two years ago. The Muses had a real talent for trash generation, accumulation and redistribution. Their house had no indoor plumbing but we have discovered pieces of at least four toilets. Piles of metal roofing, all types of livestock fencing, jars and bottles of every description. Condiments and laundry products were abundant around Birdie's house. The house was waist deep in old furniture and bedsprings. Dozens of tires and unidentifiable car parts. Every place the under growth was the thickest was guaranteed to have a pile of old junk fully integrated into it acting as some kind of fertilizer. With plenty of acreage here we thought that possibly we could make some use of it all and avoid numerous trips to the landfill too. Zero waste stream responsibility - even if the waste is not ours (well ok. it is now). Since the majority of the junk is actually vintage from the 1890's up to the 1960's there is no pressing worry about sanitation, the concern is more of an aesthetic nature. However; art history shows us that any old crap in its own context can become a Nevelson, a Rauschenberg or a Duchamp. Our main inspiration is the incredible installation piece in Austin, the CATHEDRAL OF JUNK that we have visited several times. Vince Hannemann has built - over a period of more than 20 years - in his own backyard the Watts Towers equivalent of trash piles. There is no adequate explanation of how awesome it is, it must be seen to be understood. We picked a central location to the rear of the house site, a short walk from the camp site and along the perimeter trail. A grouping of mesquite trees gave us a backbone to start with. All the bedsprings from the house and miles of baling wire provided an easy to expand framework. With only the lowest-tech action of twisting wire together we have formed a three room, three door, nearly enclosed structure composed of nothing but junk. And, just like Vince told us would happen, it has morphed into a breathing organism. A truck load of additional stuff will now absorb into the density of the walls without notice. Several hundred jars and bottles, retired toys, wagon to car parts, bad ceramics, license plates, tvs, shoes, dead chainsaws, skulls and bones, lots of barbed wire and failed cemetery finials. There is a definite post-apocalyptic voodoo vibe about the place, especially the few nights we have sat inside by candle light around the dryer drum fire pit and watched the firelight flicker off of chrome, colored glass and broken mirrors.
Some strict rules have developed:
1. no imports - all that is there has come off of this place only. except for roadkill ( non-animal).
2. do not buy anything to put into the gazebo no matter how cool it would look. unless it is really cheap.
3. donations are accepted.
4. anything in the gazebo is fair game to be used in other places if a better use comes along.
5. for structural purposes, every new item added must be wired to at least two other things.
6. it will never be finished.
7. ignore rules 1 through 6 - there are no rules in art.

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