It begins with an end. A tree is blown to the ground in a raging storm, falls to its grave after sharing flowers and breath for a lifetime, or is claimed by the ever encroaching evolution of man.
Driven by a strong desire to reveal the tree’s inner beauty, I start by cutting it into manageably sized pieces.
Next, I visualize where the piece lies within the wood.
I make another incision, and the bowl begins to take further form.
Soon afterwards, while the wood is still dense with water, it’s mounted to the lathe, and by way of inspiration, a rough figure is born.
Time to rest. For about a year, the bowl sits undisturbed while the water evaporates from deep within its pores.
Once it has been determined that the emerging vessel is dry and ready for the final metamorphosis, it is remounted onto the lathe.
Via graceful precision and patient persistence, the process of the art is once again completed. And it is perfect. The otherwise hidden, inner beauty of the elegant tree, is now seen in an entirely new light.