Space Suit Super Models
What do you want to be when you grow up?" asked a well meaning interviewer of school girls on a PBS radio show. "I want to be a super model." was the instant reply.
In the early years of the space race, men were selected on the basis of their physical and mental attributes. Only the best, brightest, fittest and most stable-stomached individuals were able to pass the grueling tests and earn a mission patch for their uniform. It was my boyhood dream to become an astronaut.
That dream was smashed the day of my first roller coaster ride. An overactive gag-reflex has rendered me earthbound for the foreseeable future. I decided to become an artist instead (after all, it's the next best thing to being an astronaut). I wondered how many disappointed knock-kneed, overweight, pigeon toed, nearsighted, color-blind, tone deaf little boys with asthma there are out there. And then I wondered how many little girls. It seemed to me that the equivalent contemporary predicament for little girls was not being able to become a super-model. The specific physical attributes make the career prohibitive for all but a very few. In part, these new works are about this co-relation, but they are also about trying to find new ways to fund the space programs that I value. Don't you think the "Sports Illustrated Space Suit Edition" would go over quite well?