I had an attack of "junk guilt" last fall. My tubs of accumulated cast-off plexiglass, jewelry, computer scraps, knobs, game pieces, springs, radio tubes were weighing heavily on my anti-clutter/landfill mind. How to justify such an absolute waste of space these items were taking in my crowded studio. This became the foundation of my guilt. I had scaled back significantly at one point by imbedding junk into modeling paste and calling it art. After rave reviews on those heavyweights, I created a fish out of rescued garbage items and donated that to the Restore Habitat Art Show. But now I needed a new idea: plexiglass. True Value, bless your heart, gave me your scraps thinking "what a weirdo" and now that very plexiglass became the savior for these humble items. I love plexiglass. I have mastered it. I can snap it, glue it, paint it. Now it was elevated to be the backbone of my new creations-robots. Hence, Guitar-Bot, Love-bot, Time-bot, Backpack-bot, Music-bot and Etc.-bot were born.

Each had a theme and added ever so little meaning to life. Before you know it, I had a growing family of bots and a growing problem of what to do with them. It was a mystery to me. Then someone mentioned "how about displaying them at Mystery to Me?" (a bookstore on Monroe Street.) In December I brought them to this temporary home. They were greeted by passers-by as they looked out the window. Some found new homes. Some formed new relationships during the 3 months they graced the window sill. Much thanks to Joanne Berg for hosting the convention at her store. Now they need a new home and again it is a mystery to me.