Art wrestles Life; We All Win

Despite being A Man from A Place, Old Ken often finds his bootheels a-wandering. Of late, Oxford is one place where our elusive peripatetic sometimes lays his head. And it was there on the High Street (not far from the location where seventeenth century experimental philosopher par excellence, Robert Boyle, kept an 'elaboratory') that Old Ken discovered the object you see here. Perched upon a waist-high black metal cabinet, this peculiar rectangular cage keeps its secrets well. Given the finely knit grid of the cage's netting (approximately one inch by one inch), the walls would seem to have been designed to restrain the movements of some relatively small being/s. Now, as this kind of gridding would be perfectly useless containment for mosquitoes or fleas, it would seem safe to infer that the target entity must be somewhat larger than these fine insects. But what might it be?



Observing this curious contraption from various angles, we may note that it seems to have been carfully fitted out to accommodate some highly peculiar needs. In its eastern-most corner, huddled up against the buttery stone face of Queen's College, are three cylindrical projectiles of varying heights. The smallest appears to be little more than a stoppered bottle, like those in which rubber cement or paste are distributed. Clearly, the target species has some interest either in attaching materials together and/or the hallucinogenic properties of industrial inhalants. To its left, our second projectile resembles a small desk lamp, its silvery shaft terminating in an ivory cone. Behind this odd couple towers the most substantial of our inanimante denizens—a titanium-toned flashlight standing upright in all its glory.

But what or whom has this contraption been designed to inhibit? Having contemplated this fascinating spectacle on trips in and out of the nearby Bodleian Library, Old Ken has been unable to shake the sense that this odd conjunction of elements is a crafted environment of some sort. But who might live here? The closest analogue I have been able to produce is to the cage format often used to keep domestic rodents—gerbils, guinea pigs, and the like. Perhaps, this outdoor cage is designed to house a special, highly-durable sort of rodent whose food emanates from the small glass bottle. Further, we might suppose that the white cone really is a lampshade, perhaps to protect the rodent's sensitive eyes as it gnaws on root-vegetables long into the night. Let us ignore the third projectile. As I have never seen any living creatures within this device, the most plausible scenario seems to be that we are witness here to a work of conceptual art—namely, a home for an invisible guinea pig.

What I suppose I'd like to suggest with all of this is that once you begin to look for it, you can find art (conceptual or otherwise) everywhere. Indeed, below you will see an amazing work on paper (formerly in Old Ken's personal collection; current location unknown), which was found on the streets of Oakland, California. Intriguingly, the bold design you see here was actually on the verso; the recto was occupied with administrative communications regarding "a plan" and queries to see if this design was suitable (yes!).



As Old Ken was unable to see this image as anything other than a rather lurid winking face, I was deeply intrigued by the possibility that it might be part of some larger plan. What could this plan possible be? And how could I get involved? Well, sure enough, both paper and electronic addresses were attached on the recto. Dutifully, I communicated both the drawing and the contents of the text to an address in Phoenix, Arizona. When I hear back you, dear friend, will be the first to know.