I wonder sometimes about the roads not taken. While my brushes and acrylics have become extensions of my creative self, there's another artistic avenue that has long whispered to my imagination: kinetic metal sculpture using reclaimed materials.
There's something magical about art that dances with the wind. While my paintings capture moments in time, kinetic sculptures celebrate continuous change and movement. Each shift in the breeze creates a new composition, a different story. This perpetual transformation fascinates me—the idea that the artwork is never truly static but always evolving in conversation with its environment.
Just like now with my "canvases" the hunt for materials would be an adventure unto itself. I imagine wandering through salvage yards and abandoned places, discovering discarded metal pieces with histories of their own. An old farm implement, weathered gears from forgotten machinery, or twisted metal fragments—each with stories and textures that no manufactured material could replicate. The thrill of finding that perfect piece with just the right patina or shape would be like discovering treasure. I think I'd like to use car parts.
The welding process appeals to my love of transformation. The alchemy of joining separate elements into a cohesive whole mirrors what I currently do with paint, but with fire and metal instead of pigment and canvas. There's something primal about working with these elements—the heat, the spark, the joining of separate pieces into something entirely new.
Wind-powered sculptures harness nature as a collaborator rather than merely a subject. I love the idea of creating art that doesn't just represent the natural world but actively partners with it. The wind becomes the invisible hand that brings the piece to life, creating an ever-changing performance unique to each moment and viewer.
When I visit art festivals, I find myself lingering at kinetic sculpture displays. Their mesmerizing movements create the same meditative state I experience watching ocean waves or flickering flames. There's a hypnotic quality to their rhythm—sometimes predictable, sometimes surprising, but always soothing.
Perhaps this attraction is not so different from my love of painting. Both art forms seek to capture something ephemeral—painting freezes a moment or feeling, while kinetic sculpture embodies the very concept of change and flow.
For now, my artistic home remains in paint and reclaimed materials
, but I can see a future where these metal dreams take shape. Maybe it's not about choosing one medium over another, but about finding the right season for each expression. Perhaps my later career will see me trading brushes for welding torches, finding new ways to tell stories through motion and metal.
Until then, these sculptural visions remain a delightful "what if"—a reminder that the artistic spirit constantly seeks new languages of expression.
