The composer of this sculpture does not consider himself to be a composer or a sculptor but someone who, he tells me, has "a sixth sense for what's coming down," and when it does, "there's always good stuff to be found," like the copper he mined from a nearby demolition bin.
"Twice people called the cops on me," he said, adjusting his haul to fit a second device (a more-recent version of the Radio Flyer wagon). "They thought I stole this container, but I didn't; it's the one that goes with my house. It's mine."
I asked if the police showed up, and he told me, "They did, but they just laughed." And he laughed too.
The miner said it would take a couple hours for him to clean up the copper, and that he could get a couple hundred bucks for it. When I asked if his "sixth sense" applied to anything else, he thought for a moment, before shrugging, "No, not so far."
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