statue!

Brooklyn artist frank benson, got an idea from street performers who wear body paint to imitate statues. He wanted to make a statue so realistic that people would think it was a person pretending to be a statue. And the kind of precision he wanted was only achievable with body molds. He needed a body. He chose me. Frank had worked with molds before, but never on this scale, so he hired mark prent (http://www.markprent.com/). Mark is one of the world's foremost body casting experts, probably on the speed dial of several Hollywood effects departments. His Vermont studio, Pink House, is an eerie and magical wonderland. He works there with delightful assistants, most memorably monique and dan. Monique is the sweetest person in the world, and modeled for some of mark's most beautiful work. Dan is a walking verisimilitude of a homo erectus, with bright eyes and less grunting. The molds were created with a rubbery synthetic called ply-o-life, which gets glopped onto your body, then hardens for ninety minutes before they extract you. The precision of the result is stunning. I had to shave my body, the first time i'd ever done so...and one tiny hair i didn't fully cut can be seen on the finished product. The process was done in three stages: upper torso, lower torso, and head, hands, and feet. You need to be in good shape, and even then a lot of the models pass out, particularly if the pose is difficult. Mine was reasonably difficult, and i passed out during the lower torso segment. Enough hardening had been done by then, that they were able to lay me down without compromising the final product. When they peel you out of the lower torso, the ply-o-life has hardened around your twig and berries, and with the size of your head being larger than the shaft, the moment you are popped out of that particular grip, is...um, singular. The most psychologically interesting segment was the head, hands, and feet. They keep nostril holes open, but claustrophobic models need never ever apply. It was during this phase that my mind wandered to silly thoughts. I was essentially naked with big blue blobs on five of my six extremities. I imagined breaking for freedom, and running into the street waving my arms frantically. The effect on any passerby who might have seen me, is too priceless to imagine.

Back in Brooklyn, frank assembled and melded all the pieces, then painted them silver. He put in glass eyes. It is mind-bogglingly bizarre to stand before an almost-perfect copy of yourself. The seams lack complete precision, one of my ears got bent, and there are slight facial variations from the weight of the mold, but overall...it's hard to describe looking at yourself like that, it's almost an out-of-body experience.

By the way, i simply must confirm that i have a ridiculously cute tushy. If i were a girl, i would date me just to play with my tush.

Frank prepared the piece for an opening at a museum/gallery in Miami, and it was as successful as he hoped. He had debated clothing the piece, but decided to go au naturel. One gallery patron stood in front of the statue for fifteen minutes, waiting for "me" to move. Another cheeky customer flicked my willy. Frank received four replica commissions. One of me will stay in Miami, and two others now have homes in New York and Oslo. For the replicas, frank decided to go with natural tones, and brought me in to match my skin colors exactly. If you think facing one copy of yourself might be interesting, try standing in the midst of four of them. Does it say anything about me that i loved it?

And there's now a sixth copy of me in the world! I did another body casting job for a statue for the Fort Benning museum, in Georgia. As this one will be clothed in a hundred year-old uniform, plaster body molds were sufficient. For the head and hands, they used a substance called alginate, the cheap version of ply-o-life.

So if you ever meet me in Miami or Norway, you have my blessing to flick my willy. Or in Georgia, for that matter...but that one might be a not-so-good idea. If you meet me in New York, and aren't sure whether it's me or the statue...please gently blow on my hiney. If i don't react, the reach-around flick is all yours.