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Welcome to
Jeffrey Kendall's
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A Walk to the End of the Earth

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      ... I notice an unusual statue.

           A genius welded hundreds of pieces of dark brown scrap metal together to form Saint James.  From his skeletal left hand hangs a gourd.  In his skeletal right hand, he holds a long, grey pipe as a staff.  His feet look skeletal, and his legs, made of rebar, look sinuous.  His cloak forms the upper two-thirds of the statue and masks an empty torso.  Faint rust covers the metal except for the polished stainless-steel concha over his heart and his two eyes, stainless-steel nuts that shine like silvery dots in the darkness of his body.  He wears a silver-aluminum, floppy hat, and his beard and hair—long, wiry and splayed—make him look like a pirate in motion.  This masterpiece captures the paradox between external strength and inner emptiness and evokes resolute wildness in pursuit of a greater mission indifferent to opinions of others.  The emptiness I live, the wildness I desire.

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