I See Dead Things…..Cool! | Terre says | DONNE TEMPO
I See Dead Things…..Cool!
November/09/07 05:53 PM Filed in: Terre says
At the beginning of the last school year my
daughter and I moved to Tidewater, Virginia.
Wanting to try life in a small town, we moved to
the town of Irvington, near the Rappahanock
River, where my mother lives. Considering this to
be a temporary move, I kept my job in Rockville,
Maryland and commuted 3 hours + each way three
days a week.
About half of my journey was along rural roads and I began noticing the number and variety of road kill along the way. There was a lot of deer, bloating on the edges of the road, and just as many small animals, foxes, raccoons, skunks and squirrels. One day I passed a large bird. An eagle or red tailed hawk, I thought, as there are many in the Northern Neck Peninsula.
Curiosity got the better of me and I stopped to check it out. It turned out to be a barn owl. He was beautiful, perfect in everyway, except for the small pellet hole on his head. This was sad, of course, but I thought it was cool because I could have this guy stuffed and mounted. After a few calls and emails to find out how to make this happen, I was told it was a federal offense to be in possession of any part of this bird.
I found out this is true of most birds of prey unless you have a special permit, usually issued to scientists and museums. Being a little nervous and not wanting to invite any bad juju into my life, I returned the poor bird to the woods where he was found to let nature take its course.
I must admit I was more than a little disappointed to miss out on having this stuffed bird in my house. Though Norman Bates (remember Psycho?) comes to mind when I think of a room with stuffed birds.
I don’t really consider myself to be morbid, more curious. I am fascinated with living creatures, even more when they are no longer living. After the incident with the owl, an interesting thing began happening. Corpses, who’d met a most recent demise, began falling into my path.
Birds, who had somehow dropped dead, and not yet been carried off by the neighbor’s cat were found in my mother’s driveway. Bunnies and squirrels were laid out in front of her house. One day on my drive I found an incredible red fox that I wrapped in a plastic bag and placed in the back of my van. There are things about dead animals that one discovers quickly. First and foremost is their smell. I was fortunate enough that with most of my finds the days were nice enough to drive with the windows down and the smell was then no worst to me than my boyfriend’s soccer shoes. The rest of my family was not so accommodating. To my mother’s feigned horror but definite annoyance, I brought my fox-find along with other critters home to her house.
I should probably explain that I am a sculptor who’s long been fascinated by skeletons and the structure underlying things. My art rooms over the years have been home to skeletons animal and human, in whole or parts. My students were often amazed by the weight of a cow’s skull and the relative lightness of a human skull. My students have drawn bones and learned to analyze how light and shadow work to define the form of an object.
They were learning the art of seeing. Like the paintings we see in books or even photos of far away places our experience is different than standing in front of the real “Starry Night” or touching the cracked crust of the earth in Death Valley. There is something so important in the empirical. At this point you may wonder where I am going with this, uh, somewhat distasteful story. I hope you will tune in for part two.
About half of my journey was along rural roads and I began noticing the number and variety of road kill along the way. There was a lot of deer, bloating on the edges of the road, and just as many small animals, foxes, raccoons, skunks and squirrels. One day I passed a large bird. An eagle or red tailed hawk, I thought, as there are many in the Northern Neck Peninsula.
Curiosity got the better of me and I stopped to check it out. It turned out to be a barn owl. He was beautiful, perfect in everyway, except for the small pellet hole on his head. This was sad, of course, but I thought it was cool because I could have this guy stuffed and mounted. After a few calls and emails to find out how to make this happen, I was told it was a federal offense to be in possession of any part of this bird.
I found out this is true of most birds of prey unless you have a special permit, usually issued to scientists and museums. Being a little nervous and not wanting to invite any bad juju into my life, I returned the poor bird to the woods where he was found to let nature take its course.
I must admit I was more than a little disappointed to miss out on having this stuffed bird in my house. Though Norman Bates (remember Psycho?) comes to mind when I think of a room with stuffed birds.
I don’t really consider myself to be morbid, more curious. I am fascinated with living creatures, even more when they are no longer living. After the incident with the owl, an interesting thing began happening. Corpses, who’d met a most recent demise, began falling into my path.
Birds, who had somehow dropped dead, and not yet been carried off by the neighbor’s cat were found in my mother’s driveway. Bunnies and squirrels were laid out in front of her house. One day on my drive I found an incredible red fox that I wrapped in a plastic bag and placed in the back of my van. There are things about dead animals that one discovers quickly. First and foremost is their smell. I was fortunate enough that with most of my finds the days were nice enough to drive with the windows down and the smell was then no worst to me than my boyfriend’s soccer shoes. The rest of my family was not so accommodating. To my mother’s feigned horror but definite annoyance, I brought my fox-find along with other critters home to her house.
I should probably explain that I am a sculptor who’s long been fascinated by skeletons and the structure underlying things. My art rooms over the years have been home to skeletons animal and human, in whole or parts. My students were often amazed by the weight of a cow’s skull and the relative lightness of a human skull. My students have drawn bones and learned to analyze how light and shadow work to define the form of an object.
They were learning the art of seeing. Like the paintings we see in books or even photos of far away places our experience is different than standing in front of the real “Starry Night” or touching the cracked crust of the earth in Death Valley. There is something so important in the empirical. At this point you may wonder where I am going with this, uh, somewhat distasteful story. I hope you will tune in for part two.
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