And next to them, or onto them.
Sometimes a little faux-naif juxtaposition, done breezily, feels exceptionally right and true. It triggers something visceral and primal and human, since, don't we all begin, as infant-artists, stacking objects, trying to fit them together, or balance them on top of one another? We make arrangements of disparate things borrowed from the domestic sphere. We admire them. We stand back. We admire them some more. We hope they last.
And then, somewhere along the way, most of us stop making anything at all.
These are from the Tucker Nichols show at Zieher Smith.