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Facebook wall of "Noel and Marvin" MY AGENTS Recent artwork posted Monday and Thursday nights.
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Public Sculpture By Doug Tiller 14/08/2010
While on a bike ride around the Leslie Street Spit Lighthouse Saturday I came across a marvelous piece of sculpture made from found material just as the artist herself was finishing the work. Zelda Grosecart an artist and resident of both Leslie Spit Bay Side Woods and Don Valley Brook Estates says she owes much of her art career to Mike Harris who put her on the street drug free and said “go for it babe”. Having previously been a resident of Queen West before it got trendy Miss Grosecart says that’s what she did. Her present work has created a statement and editorial cry for sanity in her homeland. The sculpture has strength and a deep message much like a Goya print pointing out the insanity and horrors of a cruel heartless government connected with a religion that could not grasp the concept of gravity let alone free thought. Physically it has the stone roughness of Eugene Dodeign with the line quality of del Sarto.
I mentioned this to her.
Zel said I was on the right track. She liked both artists very much.” It’s a blunt statement,” she said. “It’s now. It’s all found stuff ”.
Her remarks were a little hard to put together since she was also having an incoming conversation with a close friend on the planet Zore in Galaxy 12. But, she was very kind to include me in this 2nd conversation and described her intentions involving the work before us.
“This is a public sculpture reflecting feelings towards our present stealth dominionist government, stoltus opposition parties and our people pleasing idiotic just show up in a boat once used for trafficking illegal arms with the club that gave the world the suicide bomber and you are in with free medical benefits and all the lawyers you want policy while we close down Canadian ERs etc. I also hate that flag with the tiger being waved from honking and speeding cars. That image of big teeth and jaws gives me nightmares. Think they also get a driver’s license with the total family medical coverage. Nearly drove over me on University Avenue waving those huge tigers.” She drew a breath and shook her head.
Her practical Marcel D. Dadist thinking and Richard Needham like philosophy had gotten my attention.
Taking a breath and starting to quiver in a tense anger she slowly said with increasing cadence “Any one wishing to take over my country need not bother with any messy declaration of war. Heavens no. Settle down and don’t even trouble with anything like the ‘Mouse that Roared’. Thinking of making Canada yours. Want to drop your country in mine. Easy. Easy. Just show up. Get that medical you’ve been meaning to have. Maybe get a bypass before heading to see friends in the Big Smoke. And don’t worry that little head about that criminal record. No problemo. You are forgiven. Arms smuggling, bombing? Foregiven!!” She yelled. “Try that with a parking ticket for parking in front of your own TO abode. Good Luck”. Her blood pressure was about 190 plus over who knows what and her leathery tanned skin was shaking and her head twitching.
“The Steve Gang is saying screw Canadians. Screw the land. Screw the air. Screw the water. Screw the fish. Screw you if you live in the north and you need a school and your water and food supply is being turned into a carcinogenic nightmare. Screw you if you live in a lean to under a tree with no ID to collect your pension. Screw you if you’d like to take the train.” Her voice was rising.
“Steve!” she shrieked “a guy who wouldn’t let the country celebrate Darwin’s birthday or have a National Portrait Gallery. His portrait is already on various pages of “Grants” along with his Sunday school buddies. Mendleson Joe has tried his best at painting such a subject. Steve and his crew think a genome is a lawn ornament. This world doesn’t matter to them. It’s thee next one with free passes for all the rides that they care about. To Hell with this planet and us is their strategy”.
“Destroying prison farms to build factory jails based not on statistics but Steve’s thinking. Forget the census it ‘s his way or the highway any way.” She was about to blow up.
I grabbed her buy the arm and helped her sit on the old remains of the quarried step of some crushed to dust heritage building.
“Section 27 of the lawyers endowment act sucks” she spit out.
“Section 24 has now given them tiggers and anybody else who shows up the backing of those unelected administrative tribunals packed with government appointments.
And none of these are subject to section 33 yet our ‘our freedom of thought, belief, opinion, and expression is’. That’s just weird and scary!” she shouted.
I asked Zel who was a little red and short of breath but, calming down if she had read Mr. Pete Hogg.
“Yes, of course” she almost screamed “and so should have every Canuck – it should be in every house hold. My copy is in an old DeSota glove box up the river.”
She then talked to Zore and I studied the sculpture. She was telling her friend in Galaxy 12 how she admired Serge A. Storms. “Serge and Captain Skink are badly needed here.” She told her friend. In my mind I totally agreed.
“Hold on” she said looking at a passing cloud. Turning her head to me she said, “ This sculpture is about frustration, frustration and anger towards the 6th estate- Mr. M’s term of the 5th estate. The Steve Gang says nothing – it literally shreds the truth. The committee on pollution in the tar sands destroyed, destroyed, shredded the evidence. They took away Dr. John O’Conner’s Doctor License because he was telling the truth.” She put her hand on an old piece of quarried limestone and tried to calm herself. “Where’s the opposition?” she exhaled and shook her head. “I don’t have a roof let alone a wall with a plug but, there is technology out there. Why don’t they use it? Guess they are just as bad. But such people pleasing wimps.”
She waved me away. She rose tall and strait. Her eyes lit up and like a calm Russ Jackson who had just seen his receiver open and about to throw a TD pass in the confusion of a secondary blitz Zelda Grosecart moved towards her work with a solid step and placed a crushed can on her sculpture. She looked at her sculpture and smiled with a sigh. Her hands and shoulders softened and fell close to her side.
She looked over at me and smiled “ I have an idea. I’m going to organize the homeless along the River Don and have a Walkathon to raise money. Yes pledges to raise money. With the money we will buy a boat. Sixteen feet maybe. Maybe a motor. Oars anyway. Land it on a beach say around Cornwall on a blue flag day so as we don’t get sick if we fall in. Maybe Steve will meet us and get me a physical and get my teeth fixed. My buddies too. Play the piano. Buy us a sandwich?”
She turned and walked to the lake talking to Zore. The sky was August blue. The waves with white caps crashed. I snapped a shot of the sculpture and rode home. I wanted to come back and draw her portrait and admire her sculpture.
© Doug Tiller 14/08/2010
Public Sculpture by Zelda Grosecart.
Rocks, Brick, Iron, Steal, Glass, Wood and Various Plastics
5 feet x 10 feet x 30 Feet (approximately)
Leslie Street Spit below and east of lighthouse
Doug Tiller
Toronto
416-466-9712
» email:tillerart@yahoo.com .
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