David Toresdahl graduated from Austin High School sometime in the late 50s, a few years ahead of our class during Ray Wescott’s reign. I always admired Toresdahl’s artistic work.

I ran into David at a college in Southern California years ago when he was doing artwork there. There he called me “young Frank” after my Dad.

Last Sunday I discovered Toresdahl’s name on my MacBook, a near obsolete find. I didn’t know he had passed away. The following work was left behind.

“If I were a writer I would be hard pressed to make a piece of sculpture that clarified my writing.  I am sure that artists’ intentions have little to do with the outcome of a work of art. It is however part of my endeavor as an artist to say something about the social fabric called civilization. Sculpture is a language in and of itself. Its vocabulary is line, form, balance, texture, color and space. Some people understand this language and some don’t. Making anything is a constant revelation of oneself and we must remember our creations are impermanent — the only value being the visions evolved in us during their inceptions. Ceramic sculpture has an inherent life of its own. It is concerned with exploring and creating new or different areas of communication. I do not work with a conscious or specific conviction about a piece of sculpture. It is always open to change. It is a celebration, one of surprise, not rehearsed.” — David Toresdahl

I spent part of holiday Monday at the Coffee House on Main visiting a friend from Mankato that caught a ride to the garage north of town. From there we were off to the coffee house on main for some reminiscing followed by a purchase at the south end of Main Street.

Now I have a Fox Hotel photo and a remembrance of Dave Toresdahl.