Posts Tagged ‘wood sculpting’
Plans Change
I changed my mind. I wasn’t going to show my latest sculpture project until I was done but apparently, I’ve used up all my patience trying to train Asher lately. I’m not waiting any longer. It may seem like an illogical time of year to begin an idle pleasure that has the potential to occupy many hours when spring growth is happening faster than can be managed in a day.
Since when is artistic whim logical?
The trigger for me was the accommodating weather allowing me to work outdoors on creating wood shrapnel and sanding dust. I decided to see if there might be a heart shape hiding in this Y-section of a maple tree we cut down at some point.
It’s lopsided, so I’m trying to decide if I’m feeling moved to compensate for that or let it remain imperfectly balanced.
I chose to give it more attention yesterday because the air quality was poor due to Canadian wildfires and I didn’t want my lungs to suffer from my panting away on a bicycle. Since the air made wearing a mask worthy, I figured I might as well work on something that is incredibly dusty.
I hesitate to reveal the vision I have for the bottom portion because I don’t have a firm plan on how I will accomplish it. Maybe if I state it, doing so will add incentive for me to keep after it, one way or another.
I hope to achieve the appearance of a melting heart. There are so many times when I feel moved to say that something melts my heart. A visual representation makes sense to me.
Somehow, I will need to try to fit the next level of sculpting in between mowing and trimming sessions, because if I stop now, I may never finish. It would get added to my trophy case of umpteen other art projects that I started but have yet to complete. I’m guessing this risk is why I was considering not talking about the melting heart until it was actually a thing.
Well, self, the plan has changed and the challenge accepted.
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Another Heart
I believe my latest heart sculpture from a section of one of our pine trees has reached completion, at least as far as I’m feeling moved to take it.
The wood color has a lot of grey to it. More than I expected. The top view shows the star pattern radiating from the center.
There is another view of that center down toward the point at the opposite end of the heart.
I intentionally aimed to avoid having the exact tip be aligned with the center, partially hoping it might reveal a more interesting wood grain. The result did not “wow” me as much as I hoped it could.
One primary feature of the sculpture that the photo is not able to adequately convey is the tactile pleasure of feeling the hefty weight and glossy smoothness of the contoured shape. In the case of this piece made of pine, that feature is more rewarding than the visual of the colors, grain patterns, and knots.
The end result of having created this heart out of pine is that I now have a strong desire to return to a chunk of ash wood for my next sculpting project.
Also, I was very interested in working on a piece where I finish the whole thing without leaving a portion natural. Having done that, I find I have a strong urge to consider a return to my old ways. That is something I can decide when I settle on the piece of wood and a potential shape that will become the result of my next inspiration.
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Changing Shape
Speaking of carving hearts, I already had one started out of pine before I cut up that tree on Saturday. Given the excellent weather conditions for being outside, I spent a little time over the weekend trying to figure out what particular shape of heart this one was going to become.
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If you know me, deciding is not one of my favorite things to do.
Initially, I chose to let the features of the chunk of pine determine how things would proceed, based on the arbitrary initial chainsaw cuts when the tree was felled. Unmoved by the result I was getting, I sought out the opinion of my best advisor.
Cyndie thought it was too long and too thick. I decided she was right because that’s what I was thinking, too.
A little reshaping was in order.
We both like this better. You can’t tell by the pictures but I flattened it out as much as I shortened the length.
It still needs some refinement before I settle in and change focus to polishing out the tool marks, but now I feel happy enough with the shape to enjoy the rest of the exercise.
I find the process as addictive as jigsaw puzzling. When I finish one, all I want to do is start another.
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Necessary Evil
One of the tasks I tend to delay more than any others is cutting down trees. There are times it needs to happen and times it probably should happen, but I struggle with knowing when an ailing tree honestly has no future. I usually choose to rely on time to make the status obvious.
Waiting comes at the expense of a perfect landscape view. Cyndie admitted to not enjoying the scene out across the deck that, from her vantage point, was always filled with the brown needles of another dying pine tree. I respect that.
Yesterday, we dispatched the fading relic. A necessary evil.
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Of course, I saved a portion of the trunk to serve as a platform for balanced rock art.
While I was at it, I also trimmed a section that looked like it had potential to become a future heart sculpture.
Do you see the beautiful pine heart hiding inside there that I see?
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New Heart
It’s difficult to do a sculpture justice with a couple of two-dimensional images, but taking pictures of my projects allows me to keep a record of pieces that won’t stay in my possession forever. With that, I took these photos yesterday to chronicle the finished product of my latest woodworking endeavor.
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As I am wont to do, I’ve left the backside natural bark and shaped and polished the front into a heart shape from a piece of ash where the tree forked into two branches.
Completing this latest heart has inspired me to start over right away with another wood sculpting project from the variety of wood chunks I’ve stockpiled in the shop, salvaged from trees we’ve cut down over the years. I have a rough idea of what I feel like making next, but that vision will merge with the features of the wood I select to ultimately determine what emerges in the end.
Most often, when I put my heart into it, that is the shape that results.
I’m completely okay with that.
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Tool Marks
I’ve reached the phase of my latest wood sculpting project where I’m happy with the shape and am ready to sand it smooth, but that goal is hampered by the straggling tool marks that remain. Each time I move to a finer grit of sandpaper, the next level of imperfections become apparent.
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I used a grinder to rough out the shape and then some rasping with a metal file to refine it before switching to hand sanding. Inevitably, there ends up being one bothersome spot where the previous tools went a hair deeper than anywhere else. That spot pretty much ends up defining the point of completion.
At least, in that spot with that grit of sandpaper.
Usually, as I move to the next finer grit, several new scuffs appear. Rinse, repeat.
It’s very meditative for my brain, despite becoming a bit of a burden on my aging arthritic grip.
If I don’t have a bright sunny day to illuminate the finest detail, I resort to a headlamp. Otherwise, it looks just fine the way it is to my old eyes.
The prefectionist in me would never settle for that.
While working to clear snow off the roof a few weeks ago, I resorted to repeatedly telling myself that perfect is the enemy of good enough. Any snow removed was better than none at all.
When it comes to a polished wood sculpture, my feelings are just the opposite. I can’t quit until tool marks are gone. At least, on the primary features, anyway. I grant myself some leeway where my design transitions from the rough unfinished bark to the smoothly shaped and polished wood grains.
I have the advantage of not being faced with time constraints in my sculpting projects. That makes all the difference, allowing me to work as fast or slow as I choose to reach the end result I seek, infusing love into the piece all the while.
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Project Endorphins
During the winter, I like to assemble jigsaw puzzles. With the pandemic forcing us to stay home, I have more opportunities to puzzle. Now that Cyndie has developed a new interest in puzzling, I am all the more enticed to feed the passion.
But I am torn. I have another project that is competing for my attention at the same time. I’ve started another wood sculpture out of a section of one of our ash trees that was cut down last year.
Last night, it occurred to me that working on shaping the wood gives me the same mental rewards as putting together a jigsaw puzzle. It’s tactile. It involves transforming something into a visually appealing end result.
If you have seen the Pixar/Disney computer-animated comedy-drama film, “Soul,” you will understand the euphoric trance of being “in the zone” of our passions.
Working to shape the wood with rough grit sandpaper, I felt the familiar euphoria of pleasing progress that was just like the reward I get from puzzling.
It’s also a lot like devouring a good book. You don’t want to put it down. You are willing to sacrifice sleep to continue progress. When you are away from [the book/puzzle/sculpting], all you want is to get back to it as soon as possible.
You want more of those project endorphins.
I want more of those project endorphins. Who has time to eat? How am I supposed to go to work?
I want more time to be in that euphoric zone.
For both projects.
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An Idea
I have been trying to picture what I might be able to do with the remaining trunk after cutting off all the dead branches on the large tree at the corner of our property by the road.
Here is a mockup of what one idea I have been pondering might look like…
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It would be a subtle, perpetual message to passing neighbors and travelers, and can serve as a compliment to our banner flag with the word LOVE across it when we put that out at the end of the driveway for events.
My main question for myself is whether, or not, I could even achieve this sculpting despite my lack of experience. I would certainly need to deal with an aversion to working in such a conspicuous space.
No hiding this project from curious passersby.
How bad do I want it?
The answer to that will determine whether this project is ultimately attempted, or just remains a computer image of an idea I once had.
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Relative Something 