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  • When I was in college, an art student at CSULB, in the middle of the night, in building FA3, a classroom in the Illustration department, I took part in a art project using string and the cardboard forms. I had collected about 30 cardboard forms, originally used to wrap fabric around. I had dug them out of the dumpster behind the fabric store. I needed more, so I went into the store and they gave me all the extra cardboard they had. I bought a large ball of sturdy white cotton string and masking tape.

    My original class project was to build a form out of cardboard that could be used as furniture and strong enough to hold my weight. The art project needed to be easily assembled and dismantled. I had planned on building a shelf from these forms, but my plans were waylaid by another idea.

    After class and the school day had ended, the illustration room was deserted. My friend and I went about attaching the cotton string or twine to the room much like building a spider web. This web was intricate in placement because the string would have to support the cardboard panels that were taped and wrapped within the string to give added dimensionality to the strings composition.

    We attached strings to desks, tables, chairs, chalkboards and window sills the cardboard forms arranged throughout the string spiraling with juxtaposition of negative and positive space. We worked all night. Cardboard forms were arranged and rearranged and at the end we stood and marveled at the transformed class room. A massive spider web loomed above us and around us with cardboard forms spiraling in and out. At sunrise we disassembled our collage of string.

    My friend and I went our separate ways and yet we share that webbed moment. I wonder if there are a few strings left in that room that I couldn't untie?
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