The new sculpture at Yavapai College

Don't know when this new sculpture first made its appearance at the entrance to Yavapai College, but it certainly wasn't there when I visited the school's sculpture garden last fall. I breakfast once a week at JBs with friends, which is why I discovered this very American Indian looking fellow; he's quite visible from Sheldon Street.

A closer look at the sculpture.

I had assumed that this was strictly metal work, but a zoom-in reveals that the center post is wooden. Can't furnish any details as to the sculptor's name or studio or location -- I tried The Google, but no dice. My fault. If I were to produce my posts during the day, instead of late evening, I could simply ring up the PR department at the college and ask.

Monday Morning: I did it! Called Yavapai College; the sculptor is Dick Marcuson, who at one time was on the art faculty. Other college/sculpture news: I'm sad to report that the collection of junkyard horses at Prescott College, which had grown to three, is now down to a single, lonely beast.

Those Horses Again

Recently I promised to provide more detailed pictures of the junkyard horses one sees around town. At a distance, these beasts are surprisingly realistic looking. Close in is different matter. Above, one of Gene Galazan's sculpts out in front of the Phippen Museum.

Another, on McCormick Street. Now for some closer views:

Here's what it could take to make a head.

Details from the body of the same horse. Parts even include license plates.

This is a close-up of another body.

Yet another view.

This is a horse of a different color.

And the trailing end of the McCormick Street animal.

And tail construction of one of the Grove Street horses. The end.

Strolling the Afternoon Away

What's to be seen on an afternoon's walk? Sights that range from the sublime (seed pod, above) to the, well, mundane problems of every day living (below.)

To report: the weather was springlike; the locale, two alleys and Grove Avenue. (I've always wondered about that name -- was it descriptive of beautiful old trees long gone for wider streets or was it dedicated to a city father (or land developer)?

There was this sign on an alley door; particularly poignant to one who spent her school years in Jacksonville, Florida, where the Seaboard was an important institution.

And, just beyond an alley fence, a tree the surgeons had thoroughly lollypopped. Yet come summer, it will be leafy green and no one will be the wiser.

At the credit union over on Grove Street, the landscape gravel had been carefully raked and carelessly walked upon. But the circle was deliberate. A first cousin of graffiti, I'd say.

I finally got reasonably good pictures of Gene Galazan's latest junkyard horses, part of the recent landscaping at Prescott College. More details in a later post.

Between the sidewalk and the pavement, rocks describe a small watercourse -- the land is slanting toward Butte Creek here.

OK, I couldn't resist doing an arty shot. In fact, I made several pictures of similar plants.

One of the nice things I've discovered about citified aspens is that graffiti artists leave them alone. No initials or hearts -- or historic carvings by Basque shepherds -- on these young trees over at Prescott College.

Now here's something you don't see very often in a mountain town -- an ultra-lightweight racing bike. The standard Prescott bicycle has a beefy frame and fat tires, the better to cope with rocky mountain trails hereabouts.

Which mountains still keep Butte Creek running nicely.

At the CVS drug store on Miller Valley, spring has been declared. I couldn't figure out what purpose the items above serve except to transmit colored light. The plastic angels, of course, are for this year's garden.

I'm more inclined to rely on the ravens than a drugstore marketing man to tell me when spring is on the way. This pair was billing and cooing on a high lamppost; can you imagine these big, raucous birds as a romantic couple? I would expect that the courthouse ravens are already nesting, by the way.

Here Comes the Sun!

One of the signs of the season is this little sales stand on McCormick at the foot of Willis. The owner of the rehabbed Victorian not only grows old fashioned single hollyhocks, but also a jungle of 8 to 10 foot tall sunflowers. Should you happen by, don't miss the fence of sunflowers along McCormick.


Standing right behind that for-sale stand is the third of the McCormick Street junk-yard horses. He's in the shade, which is why I didn't include him in my earlier post about Gene Galazan and his horses. Do take note that this horse has a feed bucket, tho I was disappointed that it was furnished with straw instead of more appropriate iron filings.


But, getting back to the subject, Iowa State University horticulture news offers this interesting history of the helianthus:

Native Americans in the U.S. have been using wild sunflower for food and medicine for at least 8,000 years. Archeological evidence suggests that Native Americans began cultivating and improving the sunflower as early as 2300 B.C. Thus, sunflower cultivation may predate cultivation of the "Three Sisters" of corn, beans and squash.

The seeds of sunflower were usually roasted and ground into a fine meal for baking or used to thicken soups and stews. "Seed-balls", similar to peanut butter, made from sunflower butter made a convenient carry-along food for traveling. Roasted sunflower hulls were steeped in boiling water to make a coffee-like beverage. Dye was extracted from hulls and petals. Face paint was made from dried petals and pollen. Oil, extracted from the ground seeds by boiling, provided many tribes with cooking oil and hair treatment. Medicinal uses included everything from wart removal to snake bite treatment to sunstroke treatment.

When the colonists and explorers sent seed from the New World back to Europe, the sunflower was treated mainly as a curiosity and a garden flower. It was not used as an edible crop again until it reached Russia. In Russia, the Holy Orthodox Church forbade the use of many foods, including many rich in oil, during Lent and Advent. The Russians eagerly accepted the sunflower as an oil source that could be eaten without breaking the laws of the church. Russians also enjoyed sunflowers as a snack food. In the past 50 years, Russians have bred sunflowers for high oil content and improved disease resistance. In 1966, an open pollinated Russian bred cultivar was introduced into the U.S. This and other cultivars began the first sustained U.S. commercial production of the oil seed type of sunflower.


For the past couple of years, I have bought giant seed heads of the Russian variety at Young's Farm. The blue jays love the seeds -- tho only the top half of this head (below) has been eaten. The remaining seeds are apparently too vertical for a jay to reach.


A delightful idea I came across several years ago is to plant a "jungle" of giant sunflowers for toddlers to wander. A variation on this idea: sunflower "houses."

For everything sunflower, you can visit Sunflower Lovers; they even offer posters (though not the Van Gogh!)

Junkyard Horses

Move back a couple of feet from the screen and take another look at that pastoral scene below. Those horses look pretty doggone real, don't they.


Then move in for a closer look -- the three horses grazing in front of the Phippen Museum are sculpted from junkyard materials. Author: Gene Galazan.

His horses are also planted along McCormick Street as you come down the bend from Sheldon. Three of 'em. Here are two:



Not much more to say except that I wouldn't mind having one of my own.