A Window into the Birth of Light
His hair stood on end, like he’d just barely survived being electrocuted.
The window into Four Chicken Gallery on Cortland Avenue, up in Bernal Heights, was wide open. I have no idea why or what, but something caught my eye as I walked by.
I glanced in and got a full view of a long strip of heavy black tar paper, the kind contractors use to form a moisture barrier when building a house, though this piece was intricately cut like nothing I’d ever seen, hanging from the seam between the gallery’s back wall and its high ceiling. Draping down the wall and unfurling across the floor, 24 feet long and 3 wide, the paper had just enough space behind it to catch some light and throw intricate shadows off each side. I was mesmerized! The door to the gallery was closed and locked but when I grabbed the door knob and pressed my face against the door's glass, the artist, Todd Hanson, caught my eye from inside, stepped forward and opened the door. “Come on in!” And I did. “It’s a representation of first light, back when our atmosphere could first support light passing through it.”
Right! His smile was infectious, his eyes bright, his hair, silver with light purple hints, stood on end, like he’d just barely survived being electrocuted.
Along with being an artist, he’s got to be a cosmologist, or a physicist; if not, he’s a generative AI savant, some kind of data wonk, or a finish carpenter, artisan tile maker, maybe a master mason. Regardless, I had to ask, where do you envision this piece going or hanging, who’s likely to buy this gorgeous thing? “No idea!” And that’s when you fall in love with people like him!
I have an image of you pressed against the window, sneaking a peak. Ever the curious, enthusiastic, and eager one. Love this and Todd’s beautiful work.💜
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