Little Red Truck

The Li'l Red Express Truck (1978–1979) isn't just an object; it embodies a certain idea of American automotive Geist. Its sheer essence was speed, made loud and clear by the bright red paint, the defiant vertical exhaust stacks, and the wooden panels that connected it to a history of craftsmanship, even as it pushed technology. I recognize it was always a bit of a niche "Adult Toy," a transient symbol of what people wanted then. Seeing it now, broken down, isn't just seeing ruin. It's a necessary step where the truck stops being just there (Dasein)—a piece of forgotten metal—and becomes purely mine, a thing of subjective memory (Erinnerung). My desire to fix it is the Concept trying to bring its original idea back to life, a reconciliation between what it was and what I want it to be. The pain of remembering isn't about wishing the past wasn't messy; it’s my own struggle to accept that past as a limit, a recognized part of my own development. All this remembering leads to a moment of the Unveiled. It’s the radical moment when I confront the raw truth about my own origins, especially the unmediated foundation of my familial bond. It’s a truth stripped of all easy conventions, laid bare within my private history. The discovery is the necessary trauma of finding myself exposed to the Nakedness of Being—the unconditional reality reflected in the people who formed me. 

Little Red Truck Study #2

watercolor and graphite on paper

5" x  7" 

2025

Little Red Truck Study #6

watercolor and graphite on paper

8" x  10 1/2" 

2025

Little Red Truck Study #8

watercolor and graphite on paper

7 1/2" x  9"

2025

Little Red Truck Study #10

watercolor and graphite on paper

7 1/2" x  7 1/2" 

2025