Hearing him talk about the show in front of an audience was fascinating because there was so much unsaid, so many stories that I understood that he couldn't or didn't have time to tell. One sculpture is a huge wooden beam with two old metal wedges that hung on the brick wall, the title of this is, "A Gap Fixed". As he talked about this he referred to the play on words of "Fixed". Meaning that the gap could be repaired, or that it is in place, as in the story of Lazarus and the Rich Man in Luke 16:19-31. Most of this show is talking about the transformation that has occurred since William went from being a social worker to becoming an artist. If you know us and know the background story that led to that change you understand how important metal was in helping him make that jump, how it indeed "fixed" the gap. How quickly life can change and rearrange, and how beautiful it can become when the gaps in our life are fixed.
The interesting thing was how quickly the audience started to see religious connections in his pieces once that door was opened. They were seeing connections that neither one of us had really recognized before. Certainly the connections were there, but they had not at all been his overt intentions. He and I both agree with the statement by Madeline L'Engle, "I am not a ‘Christian writer.’ I am a writer who is a Christian. I think that you have to be the best writer that you can be. Now, if I am truly a Christian, then that will show in my work.”
A really fun piece (but crazy to hang) was a triad of wood that was originally one piece that he had split and polished the outside of so that it was now three pieces hanging together. Having it hang allowed the pieces to spin separately and was a neat effect so you could see both the inside and outside story. I really liked how one of these pieces had a man figure on it that matched the man that had been etched with acid in the stone piece that was in the corner beside it.
He had eight sculptures in this show and another one that would have been included but it was in a show at the ServiceMaster building down the block. As we were assembling the show, William was whistling the Sinead O'Connor song, "Thank You For Hearing Me". I thought this song was a perfect companion song for a show on self portraits.