"I would like to go to a toy store, buy a big bag of plastic monsters, put each one in an ice tray cube, fill the tray with water. put it in the freezer. But how will he exhibit this work to the class without the monsters escaping?" Griff asked.
Whether it was the curry, or the Indian beer, or the perfectly fried papadums, Griff relaxed. He was, Caydance thought, irresistibly handsome in that dark gray sweater with his leather jacket flung on the back of the chair. "With the sound of your voice and your stories of art making adventures, pressure has lifted from my shoulders," he said, "as if suddenly River steps back in the pocket, throws a perfect 60 yard pass. DeJuan catches it in the end zone. The crowd cheers; players embrace. But worry about the El Dorado game still lingers in the background."
"The last student to propose a final project," Caydance replied, "told the class that in an ice cube tray, toy plastic monsters would be frozen. 'It is,' he said, 'a post-earthquake work, inspired by Robert Filliou's Frozen Exhibition. I want to freeze scary things -- sort of like in an old movie, but these monsters will not escape from the freezer.'"
"I would like to go to a toy store, buy a big bag of plastic monsters, put each one in an ice tray cube, fill the tray with water. put it in the freezer. But how will he exhibit this work to the class without the monsters escaping?" Griff asked.
"With photos in an artists book: one monster in an ice cube on each page and a concluding image of the whole tray. On the cover and back of the book will be a closed freezer door."