Kris’s Assemblage Art

Coming Out of the Closet

I have finally decided to come out of the closet to confess to the world that I am, well, I am…..an……well…..an adict, an addicted aaaaarrrtist, an addicted assemblage artist at that. There, I said it! Yes, it is true, since that fateful encounter on that fateful day in 2005, my life hasl never be the same. It was that lady. She had an art exhibition at the Eastern Idaho Art Museum. It’s her fault. It’s because of her that I’m an addict. It’s been 20 of my 66+ years that I have been addicted to paint and varnish and making insane art (gulp). I can’t help it. I can’t quit. I must apologize to my six children and my husband for exposing them to second-hand fumes, which have greatly affected some of their minds. Sorry! (Shrug) I admit that I have even been introducing my addiction to even my (gulp) grandchildren.

I must confess that I have been having daily encounters with, um, things, and other, um questionable things. I have come up with many excuses not to be with the rest of the family, so I could continue pursuing my addiction. I hide in the basement to get my fix. Occasionally, I invite others to accompany me to my secluded basement hideout to assist me with one of my many fixes.

Sometimes they would indulge with me, but I was generally left to my own da vice grips, da hammer, da hammer drill, da screws and da screw drives, da saws and other tools of da struction. Some of you have seen the effects of my addiction. I have confided in you and you have left my home speechless. My addiction IS beyond words to describe. It’s true. I have a hard time explaining it myself. Some of you appreciate my addiction and understand it very well, but others just don’t get it, and still others are annoyed by the whole thing, like my husband. Things really are coming out of the closet now. He would like me to clean up my act-tic, not to mention the stuff I hide in the garage, and put an end to it all.

So, I have to come clean and tell all of you that because of my addiction I…I… break things. If they are not broken, I break them. I cut them off, everything is under the hammer, screw, and the drill, you’d think I was a dentist. My clocks are all broken. I dissect organs for fun, then reassemble them into freaks of art. I deceive people into thinking that things work, when they don’t. I have been deceiving people for years. They think they see a Borg from Star Trek, but what they really see are broken things, broken mother boards, a broken stereo, discarded football pads, and a dissected dryer vent. Oh, the shame of it all!!

One time a man came into my home to clean my heating ducts in the basement, in my operating room, my torture room. I had no time to clean up the evidence, there was too much of it. He clearly saw that I was an addict. As he looked around my laboratory while he was cleaning the ducts, he commented that whomever was making this stuff was either a genius or insane. I confessed that I was the user and maker of all this, that I had a big stash in the other room, as well, and that I made it all right here. Then I looked at him right in the eye and confessed that I had been wondering the same sort of thing about myself. Am I a genius or insane? I’m not sure! He returned to cleaning my ducts and, luckily, never said another word about it. I should have NEVER let that man in my house. Now he knows everything!

My name is Kristine Day and I am an art addict, a junk junkie, and I will always be a junk junkie. Now you all know everything about me. I have nothing to hide. Well, at least I need to thank God that I don’t have any other addictions. Sooo, here I come world, out of the closet, and into infamy and beyond!!

Yours Truly,

Kris Day