Sunset At Lost Creek

From the first time my first pocketknife slid through a piece of pine and I experienced the smooth surface, the pungent scent, and the flow of the grain, wood has been a source of sensual interest and pleasure for me. My interest in working with wood waxed and waned for the next few decades: I never thought of myself as needing or wanting to work wood so I never sought instruction beyond the required semester of wood shop in junior high. Those periods, however, when I found myself whittling, or carving or even just looking at or smelling a piece of wood knowledge seemed to accrue naturally through my senses. The present period began about fifteen years ago when I accepted a friend’s challenge to design for a function but refused to allow the function to dictate a form, process and product without the greatest possible sensual interest. Now, I have clients that say they can’t help but touch the work; and since I make sure that even the obscured lines of the piece are interesting, some even lie on the floor to get every possible angle of view.