What originally drew me to this piece was the smell of oil. It brings up imagery of motorcycle shops, heavy machinery, filth, and just general masculinity. The reflection of the glasslike pool of oil, with the glass amorphous object hovering just above the surface, gave me a sense of containment. Looking into the oil you see the ceiling, made of planks, resembling a hardwood floor and the tapestry hanging on an adjacent wall becomes an area rug. It is disorienting.
Occasionally bubbles form on the surface from some sort of pump underneath. I don’t know if the pump is there for any other purpose than to make these small changes in the surface of the oil. It breaks up the stagnation. When I saw the bubbles, I began to think of oil spills. I liked how the crisp, cleanliness of the hanging glass object was like a visual tug-o-war with the inherent dirtiness of the pool of oil.
Sitting with this piece for about an hour gave me an over all sense of peace, even though my mind wandered to these places of environmental catastrophes, motorcycle shops, and a negative sense of containment. Maybe the overwhelming odor had something to do with that…
