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- Over the course of the next year, Walter Barker, asked
me two or three more times if I would care for Pip, while he and his wife
made trips to New York City. Each time Walter floored
upon us lavish human treats for this more or less easy service on our part;
often just leaving them out on the porch, for me to gather up when I got
back home from the University. As I had no car, I was often on the bus,
or grabbed a ride in my friend Kent English's truck van. Church Street
was about three or four miles from UNCG, and to far for me to walk, particularly
with art supplies in tow. Pip on his part got more use to the shuffle.
After all, Pip had already made the big car migration journey down from
New York City to Greensboro, so what was a small side trip for a couple
of weeks. Pip seemed to settle into my studio with each successive trip.
My little studio was a converted rear bedroom extension on the house, with
it's own little entrance porch, screen door and two windows on opposite
side walls. I had painted the walls and the floor white, so that the floor
was a seamless extension of the wall for my environmental sculpture installations.
At that time, I made sculpture, often using the same ingredients from one
piece, over into the next, photographed them, documented them, invited
my friends and teachers occasionally in to see them, and then took them
apart and built another one. This method gave me a process of sculpture
learning and made very light storage. The more structural works of 1968
and 1969, gave way to the more loose and organic artwork sculpture that
I made from 1970 to 1974. Pip would walk carefully
through these sculpture set ups, checking and smelling each object, but
never disturbing them, and never moving or scratching at any of the delicate
hanging organdy cloth structures.
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- You could tell that Pip had tremendous respect for
art because he never stepped on it. Other cats that
I have own over the years have not only walked across my art, or paintings
while they were wet, made cat prints on my drawings {The little paw print
to the left is an example from a collage I made.}, or rarely
but it did happen once, urinate on my art or coughed up slime and hair
balls onto my art work. But Pip just sat in my studio looking so satisfied
and he seemed to actually be looking at my art work. This made me think
that prior to Pip belonging to Max Beckman that he was reincarnated. Pip
in his previous life had been an artist in Montmartre, Paris, France, with
a little black barret. That is why Pip liked art so much, he had actually
been a painter himself.
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