Cappuccino, Gallery and Gardens

As I sculpt, I am patiently mindful of contours.  I want to bring them out in their flowing and complex ways.  I find curves and often my pieces end up looking cathedral-like, quiet, coherent, confident and grand.  The pieces feel good to the touch.  I take a finger and follow the contours.  They are smooth and sensual, vital.  If I pause, I can feel the contours speak to me.  If I pause, I can listen to what my piece of wood tells me to do with my chisel and scraping tools. 

Most of my pieces, “Woogwood,” come from my own woodpiles, such as oak, hicory and other woods I don’t know.  Some other woods include myrtlewood from the Oregon coast, cedar from the Adirondacks and Bermuda, and dense birch from New Brunswick, Canada.

I try to bring out the best of what is inherent in the piece of wood.  I only have one over-arching rule in this endeaver; don’t violate the grain of the wood.  Don’t go against the grain of the wood.  To do so would destroy the integrity, the dignity, the soul of the wood.