My carvings are drawn from historical and natural sources, and from that arena where fantasy and nature meet. Translating inspiration from plants, animals, or surface design into the 3D and dimensionally-constrained raw material of a log so that the carving does not immediately reveal its origin as a tree is an on-going challenge.  (The flamingo on the right side of the picture has been sold.)

I have been creating wood sculpture with a chainsaw since 2000. I am fascinated with the possibilities and the limits of the wood medium; how the log itself contributes to the nature of the final art and how the sculpture both reveals its origins and moves away from its original nature. I use trees that have been removed because of prior damage from construction or weather. Because these are "yard trees" unacceptable to saw mills, the wood would otherwise be lost if not turned into art. Most of the creations that come off my saw have themselves asked to be released from the log; my only purpose is to clear away the wood that’s “not the art” (and add the finish that will preserve the sculpture).

An interest in Celtic imagery (the knot work) and its sources led to Neolithic symbolism, which has turned out to be a rich trove of material for carvings that speak powerfully.

Over the years, my sculpture has broadened to include many subjects, both figurative and abstract. Frustration with the physical and technical limits of log sculpture has led me to branch out ;-) into furniture. In addition, I experiment with other media, creating both vernacular art for the garden and decorative paintings, textiles, and jewelry.

More About Art

My philosophy of color can be summed up by saying, “there’s no such thing as too much” (which, incidentally, I also apply to daffodils and daylilies, 2500+ and 100+ respectively in a half-acre garden, and growing). While I admire and respect sculptors who work in marble and metal, I could never commit to those palettes for a lifetime of work. Having to carve and finish a “canvas” before getting to the painting step is very limiting, and I continue to experiment with various techniques to add color to carvings that take less time than a 400-grit finish. In addition, I started painting to take some of the pressure off coloring the carvings. While painting does not allow the same room for expression of tangible shape, it is a quiet art and can be practiced on Sunday mornings when the neighboring churches are in session.

I can’t remember not knowing how to knit but remember beginning to knit seriously 1986 as an attempt (eventually successful) to stop smoking. I knit continuously until 1999, when I finished a lace tablecloth as a wedding present that took six miles of thread. I didn’t touch a needle for the next four years. In hindsight, the hiatus allowed the sculpture to be born; knitting was bleeding off enough creativity that there wasn’t enough left to overcome the fear of learning a new medium. In January 2004, I looked at my yarn stash and thought “that would be fun to knit…” and Red Stripe took shape. Now I practice knitting restraint by not shopping for a new project until the current one is completely finished. Some days the saws leave my hands too worn out to knit, but it is helpful to have a portable art form when it’s too late to run a saw.

When one's taste in jewelry clearly exceeds one's income, and said one is an artist, the solution is obvious: make your own. Public reaction to some very personal pieces has encouraged me to develop a line of jewelry for sale. My materials are beads, found objects, and polymer clay, and as with most of the art, the colors are bright.