I know that when Louise Nevelson made art, she didn't have much of a plan beforehand. She found her objects, and started throwing things together to find the patterns and order at a later time. She was also one person, who didn't need to communicate or collaborate with 70 other people. So, as I mark off each shadowbox dimension, painstakingly confirming that each angle is, in fact, 90 degrees, I ponder over what Louise would have thought about this preparation. I think she would pronounce the process as stifling. That is exactly how I feel- stifled, muffled, gagged, and suppressed. This is not fun work.
I always tell my kids that I am an anti-measurer. What am I doing now? Calculating each box with precision so that the end result will sort of, kind of fit together. HOWEVER, the inexact nature of working with 70 rookies of clay and the shrinkage of each box will lead to constant irregularities. I don't know how to feel about this: I'm indifferent at this point. A couple of my students and I were talking about dumpster diving at a furniture shop to get a good border for the outside to hide the irregularities. I cannot decide. That call can be made later on.