This piece of writing from another day was the next expression that came to me. I did not resist it, even knowing that I had previously written about the sculpting of this piece.
Yet another perspective Another Beginning.
Having carved other pieces with many figures throughout and having them, to my mind, work out well, clever brain says,“Hey, do another piece with lots of figures in it, and then you’ll have another ‘good piece’.” Hearing what appeared to be the intellect attempting to be the master of the situation, I felt strong resistance. I cleared away the rough wood from a hollow in the piece.
I recognized after clearing away the rough wood, the lower jaw and head of a sperm whale.
There was a protruding wood appendage where the fin could be carved. I resisted. I saw what appeared to be the eye and head of a beluga.
I reminded myself that the exercise with which I was engaged was to explore the intuitive. The intuitive, those intangible feelings, were to be the priority. The stronger feeling was that I wanted to be able to get inside this piece. There appeared to be enough physical volume in this solid piece. I would have to make an opening and hollow out the inside sufficiently that I could climb in. The challenge was not about thinking of a clever opening to make in the piece. The approach was to be based on feeling. What was felt to be the appropriately shaped opening to make in the piece? I contemplated this part of the project, or was I thinking? “Ah, yes, I could make an opening in the piece having the physical shape that would be taken up by a reclining human. That would look interesting. I could make the opening in the form of a kayak cockpit, or an arm chair or a rocket ship seat. I could carve gauges and dials.” I would get excited for a while at each idea, then I would recognize that no, these ideas felt like attempts to be clever. None of the ideas for an opening felt at all satisfying. Each day I stood beside the piece and contemplated. I attempted to ponder, to wonder without actively engaging in thinking.
With the other pieces I seemed to have had visual cues as to what was to be carved: the dorsal fin of a whale, the back leg of an otter, a portion of a human torso. With this piece, although I could recognize various figures within the piece, I did not recognize any visual cues associated with making an opening. Having spent many hours, days, weeks sanding and smoothing the curves, I was eager for change. I stood, I contemplated, I focused on contemplation. I questioned. Where do I make the opening? What shape is it to be? Nothing! Day after day, nothing. In this day and age of instant messaging, I suspected that if I was to receive a message from the universe or wherever it was to come from, well, in four months, I should have received it.
Maybe I was afraid. Maybe I already knew where to make the opening. I made a decision to start the next day.
The following morning I started up the chainsaw. I walked around the piece. I plunged in the chainsaw bar. With much whirring, wood chips flew. Moments passed. I stopped. I turned off the chainsaw.
“What am I doing? What have I done? I’ve made such a commitment; to exploration of the intuitive process, to the effort to get this piece to the studio, so many hours of work, and then I just plunge in with the chainsaw? I just wasn’t thinking!…Pause…I wasn’t thinking!” That was good! It wasn’t supposed to be about thinking.
I relaxed. I began to feel comfortable with what I had done.
“OK, now I will make the space inside large enough that I will fit inside. And the opening, how will I shape the opening? Ah ha, visual cues, I will follow the grain of the wood…till it turns abruptly. I will make the opening to conform with the change in the direction of the grain.”
I followed the grain. Some amount of reason has crept into the equation. In the back of my mind I quietly assessed the functionality of the opening. Will it be wide enough to allow me to get inside? It appeared to be large enough. I continued to follow the grain. I followed the grain for about two meters.
There are a number of, pokey holes. A “pokey hole,” certainly a very technical term! One side of one of those pokey holes seemed to be in line with the edge grain of my opening. I joined the two openings.
I used the other side of the pokey hole to join up with the main opening that had developed. Above the wider portion of the main opening was a fuzzy-buzzy area, another very technical term, of soft deteriorated wood. I cleaned that area up and created my own pokey hole. I had weakened a little in my resolve not to carve a multitude of characters in the wood. I detected some sort of figure having two upper limbs and two lower limbs. I stretched out one of the pokey holes to give a little more definition to the limbs.
I offer here a detailed description of why I made the shape of the opening in the piece the way I did. The reason for all this will become evident and clear as this story unfolds.