Sacred Shavings

These are the first sacred shavings from my chisel. Photo by Charlie.

Carving away my sorrows

I've spent countless hours sharpening this chisel. Sharpened till I bled, sharpened until my knuckles buckled, sharpened sharpened sharpened. It's very important to bond with your tools.

Pachamama

Painting is unexplored territory for me, I'm used to carving wood and bending metal. It's a slow process, inspired by the ripples of the wood and the curvature of the sound waves.

There's no conventions for the words.

I thought the paint splotches looked like galaxies forming inside the head of this old man. I like to explore infinitely inward, as well as outward and sideways. This one kind of painted itself, I just brought the materials together. 

This mountain embodies song.

I found this burl of wood to be very inspiring. I like to imagine the seed it came from and the sunlight that helped it grow. The life it once had, and the new light it will bring to me. 

Sometimes its best to start a song just by, starting a song.

What a wonderful experience it has been to know Tony and to sit with him and sing songs and talk about anything and everything that sparks from them. Warm nights, beautiful artwork, soothing words. I've learned so much from sitting and talking with him, from watching him play guitar, from singing with him and with the other artists as as a unified body. The way he is unafraid to make mistakes in front of the class, or to throw himself into a tangent and bring us all along with him. Clapping, snapping, smiling, crying, singing. It's so inspiring. I've learned  how to trust my instincts and how to follow my train of thought rather than trying to control it. Sometimes we don't see the meaning in a piece of artwork until we are done creating it. When are we done creating it? Who knows. Making art is like capturing one moment in time, but that moment in time is constantly shifting, changing. It is an intuitive process. Often times I don't understand why I made a piece until it is done, and then it reveals itself to me. I am no longer afraid to stray away from my original intention with a piece, or to experiment and make mistakes, because anything that comes from my hand comes from a genuine source, and is part of a greater excavation of my subconscious. Tony said it best: "We need the pegs, but we also need the wafts." 

Turn my bones to his back, turn our faces to the west.

I'll ride an old paint out west where the brightest chantrelles and the biggest boletes grow.