I am a collector born to a family of collectors. rocks, shells, bones, beer cans, beer signs, menus, advertising ashtrays, matchbooks, and miniature bears by
the age fifteen. I have always slowly amassed sets and subsets of objects based on my evolving tastes and, importantly, my whereabouts. living in Kenya for six
months during second grade I collected bones and teeth harvested from flattened & sun-dried roadkill, chiefly snakes. In California, I made elaborate tree
houses for my miniature bears with abalone shells and rocks, fiberglassed homemade skimboards with my friend Sam, and once made an inadequately small hang glider of bamboo and plastic. my mom
taught me how to sew. my dad had a boat, with all the knots, water and weather that that implies, as well as lots of time swimming and fishing. My family allowed me to follow my desires, sometimes
with bated breath no doubt. among the first photographs of myself is a sequence taken on my second birthday: I notice the candles, reach for them, then cry with the burn that ensued. that pretty much
sums up my life, in all its joyous and painful aspects.
As a sculptor and a cheapskate, I have always made do with what I found. my entire oeuvre is site-specific in that way, and reflects my location and circumstances and
interests in time. please explore and enjoy the tabs at left, which naturally can only show a part of the whole.
Please note that I am not the Peter Cole born 1957, poet and
translator. Nor am I Peter Cole born 1930, the big wave rider. If you run into them, or another one,
please say hi from me.
Co-author and friend Leslie Jonath and I romped about both the East and West coasts to rearrange the natural parts we found there. Rory Earnshaw was there to photograph our creations, and the
final book was published in June 2018 by Simon and Schuster. click on the photo for the link to our website that explains it all.