Here is a weapon of death - not some pale imitation firing rubber bands or stand-in for the real thing, some child's toy, or simply the parts of the real thing because the real thing itself is not permitted or obtainable. This is the machine that ends life - the tool that is used to threaten and terrorize and sometime to end life.

Printed just as we printed bracelets and boxes, architectural models, or simple solutions for worn out parts. Once printed in pristine blue, waiting to be used. It had the potentiality of death.

But now this potentiality has been liberated. No longer the potential to commit crimes or threaten or kill. It is caught in the moment of dissolving, returns to the blue mud whence it came. Whatever crimes committed or witnessed are disappearing with it as it dissolves. It is deterritorialising before our eyes...but now held in the moment of disappearing, suspended in the act of escape.

With this piece we have to ask ourselves the question why was it being melted - it this holding some cruel and beastly story. It is no thing of beauty but of half formed utility, barely functional even when complete. A constant risk to its owner as much as too it's victim.

Are we party to it's power, are we entranced by possibilities, it's untold deeds, or do we look at it and reject it's claims to artistic merit and see only mucky origins and criminal intent?