Even though my dad was a renowned woodturner and he had set my kids and I up with a mini-lathe, I had never contemplated turning professionally until he was diagnosed with cancer. He gave me three gifts; the hope that I would continue his craft, the freedom and license to do so, and more than a lifetime supply of wood and rough turned bowls. I am forever grateful to him.
I have always tried to find a way to create art no matter what ever else I was doing in life. And as my path had many crazy turns, each little detour and pitstop has contributed to how I approach the art that I now make. After my masters research brought me to a remote part of Antarctica, I fell in love with the immense beauty of the untouched wilderness. I spent six summer seasons and one winter on the “ice” with time at each of the U.S. stations over the next six years. The experience left me with a deep appreciation for good people, simplicity, and the power of the natural world. The curve of a humpback whale’s back, sastrugi formations, the fractures of ice at a glaciers edge, the smooth curves of an iceberg, sun dogs, the endless horizon at the South Pole, the ripples in an ice flow, the silhouette of a mountain range in front of a never ending sunset… and all without any trees.
Maybe the lack of trees for so many years gave me a deeper love for a beautiful chunk of wood. Looking through my dad’s collection of wood has left me speechless on many occasion. Woodturning feels like traveling to an unknown land with hidden paths waiting to be explored. Each piece of wood holds secrets of untold beauty that you get to release to the world as it is turned. I hope that when someone examines one of my pieces that they can see the tree’s secrets and it fills their soul with the awe of nature.
If you don’t find me in my tiny shop, I will be with my family, traveling around the US and abroad in search of remote wilderness.