“Scene One, Take Two… Action!”
O’dark-thirty… the usual nocturnal stroll through the city… paused a moment to take in the sights and sounds… reflect upon it’s diversity… and whatever the heck that is up ahead lurking in the shadows…
At the far end, a biker bar… its smoky yellow light spills out into the street… illuminating a row of neatly parked hogs.
Next door, a seedy motel. It’s last remaining letters wink out a tired ‘H O’… the rest just flicker glumly. Across the street stands a pair of midnight Madonnas lit in the glow of the one working street lamp cracking their gum and looking bored… watching a small black cat slink its way along the fence surrounding a vacant lot piled high with boxes and urban detritus obscured in the shadows. The railroad track, smelling distinctly of grease and creosote, cuts a groove down the center of the pavement… no trains rolling through here tonight.
Suddenly the quiet night is pierced by a brisk cry off in the distance, “Hey, come back with my pants!”
A masterful modeler, like a good author, tells a story through his models. Just as the author carefully selects his words to