My Buddy, Art

This is “Art”. I’ve had him for about 10 years now. He’s cast from a boxer’s lifecast, made of surgical latex. He’s both a statue and a punching bag. Well, he was designed to be a punching bag, but he has the obvious statue appeal.
He’s wearing my bicycle helmet, and the eyes are from the early version of the “my eye” picture. He has a third function—scarecrow. People are often startled by him—at a glance, it looks like someone’s lurking by my back door. He’s even surprised me a few times. He is adjustable—you can raise and lower him to suit the height of your choosing. He stands up to being punched and kicked – witness the streaks on him. Those are from a variety of gloves and shoes. I have never kicked him barefooted—the few times I’ve given him a bare knuckled swat discouraged that.
“So, Trey—you’re a Buddhist and all—what’s up with this?”
I once read that for a pauper to renounce wealth is meaningless. So I reckon for a person no good at kicking ass, renouncing violence would be equally meaningless. Plus, it’s great exercise.