White Nautical Rope

Santa Barbara, 1981

After leaving my job as Cultural Editor at the Santa Barbara News & Review, I indulged two great passions: graphic art and sculpture. My 3D artworks were interactive, made of materials that invited touch and manipulation. As mentioned in the Brass Bells story, I thought of them as mini-playgrounds: akin to those “busy boxes” that keep drooling toddlers occupied in the back seats of cars.

Shopping for materials was always fun—whether in Goodwill, scrap shops, hardware stores, or chandleries. This short length of ¾-inch-thick cotton rope is all that remains of a sculpture exhibited in an art gallery on Santa Barbara’s State Street. Webbed and anchored tightly to the walls and ceiling, the rope and brass piece held a lot of tension, and vibrated with potential energy. It was called David Answers Goliath’s Challenge.

Most classical paintings of David and Goliath show the scene after Goliath is felled, as David prepares to sever the warrior’s head. For me, though, the defining moment in that story is when David—an anonymous shepherd—steps out of the crowd, volunteering to take on the giant.

I believe there are moments in all our lives when we have an opportunity to do something that hints at the heroic; an act that will define us from that point forward. Usually, we decline. But David…Well, he had total confidence in that sling. And having seen slings wielded by yak herders in Tibet, I can attest to their astounding accuracy and pistol-like power.

About two years after the above mentioned gallery show, I gave up visual art for writing. I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything heroic. But I have learned that for a writer, launching a book is like slinging a stone at a huge and intimidating target, never at all sure—unlike David—if it will hit or miss.