Like Pavarotti's voice, like Bobby Orr's rush up the ice, like Jess Stacy's solo on Sing Sing Sing at Carnegie Hall or Charlie Parker's Lover Man, like Shakespeare's King Lear or Melville's Moby Dick, like Dr King's I have a Dream speech, like Giacometti or The Pieta or Van Gogh, like Cal Ripken at third or Magic Johnson in the playoffs or Walter Payton: what allows the art-craft to approach the truly special (beyond the good, beyond even the great), and what helps me -- through that art-craft, on some rare occasions -- to experience and touch the hem of transcendence (beyong pleasure/contentment, and even beyond gratitude), is the humaness of it all, the almost-perfection that's achieved through the imperfections, in spite of them, because of them, along with them, the uniqueness of an individual human expression striving for something beyond the individual, the just-missing Ideal slightly veiled despite the very best efforts and talents and commtiments. It's amazing how close some artists-craftsmen can get to the Ideal, and what makes their work resonate most for me is this very fact, i.e. the mistakes or limitations that can get them close, but no closer --the honesty and humility and simplicity of that; the humaness of it.
But hey, if a gca can achieve that (assuming that he/she even wants to achieve that) with 20 bulldozers and a million tons of shaping, more power to them.
Peter