I’m a woodcarver in the mountains of California, shaping dead wood from the forest around my home into objects that illuminate the beauty of the tree.
In the forest, deadwood presents itself as a featureless lump. Oxidation and sunlight wrap the surface in a drab, grey skin.
The tree, while it was alive, created extravagant form and color. Curls and burls and fractal branches, the wood changing color as it moves from the interior out into the world. Changing as it moves from root to tip, changing in response to insect attacks and drought, and for a thousand other reasons.
Revealing all this from grey, featureless lumps is satisfying work.
Everything alive is beautiful, but you can’t always see it. The endeavor of making it visible is worship.
Lookout Mountain Studio 