SHRUBBI #1: Window Sashes
We are a culture that has become expert at creating stuff. That's had its good points. It's had its not so good points. What we no longer have a use for (and currently this is what scientists call "a lot") we discard, labelling it as garbage, refuse, junk, trash. Sometimes it's not labelled at all, although people feel more justified tossing stuff if they label it first.
But there is no such thing as garbage. In nature everything is re-used, re-invented, woven back in.
Repetitive waste is a particular interest of mine. It's heartbreaking enough for me to see older windows and doors replaced rather than repaired and tightened up. There are almost always interesting architectural fragments in scattered piles on the side of the road. Antique doors and window sashes are fine bits of joinery. I've grown to deeply appreciate the materials, and craftsmanship of these flexible structures in my work both as a sculptor and a as a restoration carpenter (for more on this see my Blog post on repairing antique windows in the Native Woods restoration site).
The two pieces pictured above operate as either wall hangings or table tops. The top one has cherry panels that have been colored and carved. The design is one of my favorite character riffs, the holy paisley. The bottom piece has a mixture of carved wooden scraps and poured resin. You can probably tell it was meant to look like a chess board (it's called game buoy). It looks so cool on a wall, though. So that's where she sits. (yes, buoys can be girls and girls can be girls, it's a mixed up world)
This window sash has a lot going on in the carving. I'll give you a peek on a detail.
Often my pieces have episodic imagery, like frozen frames from a dream
or a touching moment discovered during the day,
or from one of the songs I'm writing or singing.
And then I forget. And I just like how it all makes me feel together.
Window sashes, especially old ones, have a certain poetry
because they have a history of being looked into/through.
What farmer's field did they look out on?
What birth or death did they witness.
How many morning suns and how many winter moons have shone through them?
