Nation of Earth

As this is a community site, it does not always have to be 'serious'.  I'm comfortable with sharing whatever I like here, and encourage other members to do the same.

Years ago I was briefly self-employed as a designer and builder of original wooden furniture.

The 'Twin Towers' are of poplar, and were built to hold CDs.

It was my pleasure to design and build pieces without glue or metal fasteners -- but it didn't last.

There was an offshoot, however, that HAS lasted -- carving what can loosely be called 'spoons' from scrap lumber.  Managed to harvest some very interesting bits from the scrap bin in the Woodworker's Club shop at our local Woodcraft (Woodcraft's center of operations happens to be here, otherwise we would not have had a Woodworker's Club).  I still have some of that stock, but it's a dwindling resource.

One night, a couple-three years ago, I went out to the gravel alley behind our house to piss, then lingered.  Suddenly I got the urge to run out into the darkness, into the slender finger of wilderness out there on the other side of the alley.  Where I stopped, as if instructed to, directly in front of me was a small log.  I picked it up and ran back to my back yard.  Examined it as best I could in the darkness, then stuck it in the shed.

The next day I took it out and looked at it, smelled it.  I could tell it was wild cherry.  Put it back in the shed to dry over winter.  It was not until I cut into the 3rd piece from that stock that I realized it had been struck by lightning -- and began to understand the significance of my urge to run out there, that night.

My first video upload features that 3rd piece:

It's a hobby.  I carve when I want to, most often inspired by the people who are the eventual recipients of these gifts.  I also sand when I want to, so sometimes these take YEARS to complete.  Tina Louise?  Yours has taken the longest, and is still not ready -- but I swear, the wait will be worth it.

These carvings of mine never fail to astound me, especially when first oil is applied.  I wield the knife, and every cut is mine, along with every stroke of sandpaper -- yet the results are always astonishing.

Mark Wolfe, a friend who passed last year (and for whom I carved a 'spork'), told me I had a gift.  All I know is that it brings me bliss to create these things.  While I carve I get into a 'zone', and I'll keep going regardless of bleeding blisters...