The Art of Trash Art

Oh my god, it’s true. One man’s trash IS another man’s trea­sure. And one man’s ceil­ing is another man’s floor, but that only applies to art if you’re hang­ing mobiles or installing light fix­tures. I pon­dered, lonely as a clown, my 96-​year-​old friend Velma Engle­hard as she swerved and swayed in her sta­tion wagon while perus­ing my River of Strange for out­stand­ing garbage con­tri­bu­tions by my neigh­bors on trash pick-​up day. The roof of Velma’s car was heav­ily laden with the day’s bounty. Day-​old bread from Food Lion, half a win­dow air con­di­tioner unit, parts of lawn mower, and a rolled-​up piece of Astroturf…

Oh wait. We’re here to speak of art. Not my Velma. Let us pro­ceed upon the path with which we came.

Ollie, who is five years old, picks up the back of a bro­ken child’s chair. “Nana! How about we nail this to the front door? Wouldn’t that be cool?”

Emmett, who is three and Ollie’s brother, replies for me. “Yes! That’s art. How about you put this plas­tic spoon on it, Nana has real glue, not the roll-​on kind Mommy makes us use… and then, how about… how about… ??” He’s momen­tar­ily stymied and his eyes dart around the front yard like Kenny Rogers’s dur­ing a live per­for­mance. He spots a bro­ken bird feeder. “Here. How about this? We put some wheels on this wire part, then you get the steer­ing wheel from that fire engine under that bush, and Nana can put some WIRE on IT! Hang it RIGHT HERE!” he points to the crab apple tree and its low­est branch.

See? Art.

How to make re-​purposed art? Here’s a primer.

1. Grab a small child by the hand.

2. Take a walk.

3. Carry a bucket and wear gar­den­ing gloves.

4. Find stuff.

5. Bring it home in the bucket.

6. Glue it together. Or wire it together. Or nail it, screw it, or pile it.

7. Stand back and appre­ci­ate your ART.

*Do not glue, sta­ple, wire, nail, or screw live crea­tures to your ART, no mat­ter what the small child tells you.