08.12
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I MADE THIS TUTANKHAMUNÂ HEAD maybe 15 years ago, by using a party mask as a mould. I can remember burying the plastic mask face down in sand, to support it, and then poured in the concrete. I then embedded a thick wire loop into the back, as a hanger.
When I removed it from the mould, there were imperfections caused by dry sand and dirt that had been in the mould when I poured. Imperfections, perfect. A slightly damaged nose. And various ‘scars’ and aberrations. Like I had unearthed Him after thousands of years.
When I moved into my present unit, I hung Him like so – at the end of my deck. After the Bundaberg flood of Australia Day 2013, He was taken down while my place was totally renovated. Tut remained half buried under my front steps for over 2 years, lonely and forgotten.
About a week ago, I remembered He was there – still under the steps, and overgrown with weeds and rampant pot plants. But now He lives again. So he has survived The Great Flood (the biggest in Bundaberg’s recorded history), and hangs in his chosen place. King Tut once again looks over his little Kingdom: my front deck, in sight of the river behind.
This pic was taken near sunset, and the sun played some nice tricks on the usually basic bare wood-coloured timber. Blues and oranges. Those colours are not there in the day. He lives, in all His splendour. Welcome back, Your Most Extreme Tutness.