Then, in 2010 came my parents' 70th birthdays. It seemed like a great opportunity to take a look at what I've had and make something new out of it. This time, a square plywood board was selected to be the background and support for the whole composition. To make the small squares truly interactive, simple elements of hardware were employed. Making sure to work with an accurate template, I've installed screws at the back of each square so that one can insert each piece in any of the nine spots on the background board. I'm not sure my parents play with combinations of the various possibilities but they sure can, and that was my intention.
A little later I tried a down scaled version for a friend's wedding. Instead of a stained background I took a bunch of color pencils and worked on visually relating the pieces. Instead of nine squares floating above the surface I've selected three from the existing acrylics on plywood pieces.
Pressing the pencils on the background boards, there is a physical connection that forms between me and the surface. I enjoy the transparency of pencils where you can gradually add strokes and the color becomes more pronounced and still the color beneath shows itself. By contrast, acrylics tend to just cover the layer beneath. The difference between media supports my narrative of urban change: the effort of tweaking an established infrastructure involves finding the right balance between existing conditions and the boundaries of our imagination; between past, present and future.
My current state of the process is nearly ready with six pieces. They all use plywood boards as backgrounds and pencils in various degrees of application. There is a wide range of styles between them and still they seem to form a coherent family of objects. I am intrigued by how they will look when I'm done. Notice in the small works the similar pieces in blue. As my use of tools allows me to plan and anticipate the process, what I'm showing here is an approximately what they will be. On this, I will expand a bit later.