I remember that I loved digging through my granddaddy’s greasy red toolbox. I’d spend hours looking at the monkey wrenches and rusty nuts and bolts … hoping to find just the right tool to fix stuff with. I usually settled on an old rusty butter knife…
I felt empowered and yet a little out of control as I turned those rusty screws with that butter knife.
I was not your average little girl. My neighborhood friends played with Barbies.. and collected seashells, Breyer horses and snow globes. I collected rocks and old door knobs. I was mesmerized by rust. Rust is unapologetic. Rust is defiant. Rust is not an ugly sign of stagnation, but rather a commodity - a beautiful thing, often overlooked and completely misunderstood. Rust informed my environment and my presence within it. I was born to be an assemblage artist. I relate to rust, it is in my blood. And, I am unafraid of using the rustiest butter knife to create something of beauty.
svanhorsen@cox.net • suevanhorsen.com
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