Greg Shelnutt

Fiction, poetry, and memoir lead me to imagine others’ lives. Often sourced from dumpsters, Habitat Restores, and Goodwill Outlets, found objects hold weight, texture, color, and implied history. Example: Alchemistische Schubkarre is made from wood from an East German barn. I selected what recalled histories of use, wear, and removal. A stage for a cast-iron funnel and bowl, the cart rolls with awkward absurdity; a contemplative alchemy? 

Double Header reacts to a souvenir spade from Gdańsk’s WW2 Museum. A “souvenir” of the Nazi’s paramilitary Reichsarbeitsdienst, this object captivated and repelled me: a souvenir of what? The iron shovels are attached to a bent handle featuring a quote from Eric Maria Remarque’s All Quite on the Western Front in German:  

“The sharpened spade is a lighter and more versatile weapon; not only can you ram it up under someone’s chin but, better still, you can smash someone with much more force. Especially if the spade strikes obliquely between shoulder and neck, you can easily open up a man’s chest.” 

The baseball bats’ tripod burned-in hash marks are my failed attempt to reach 44,447, the number of people who died from gun-related injuries in 2024. I only got to 4,135, only 9%.