An Unyielding Fascination
I've been playing with new toys and contemplating different games. Working with new materials and learning new skills. I recently purchased the 3D printed parts of the hero gun from the movie Hellboy. I cleaned the parts up, sanded them, fit them together so things moved and and the fake bullets can be exchanged. I painted the prop and weathered the finish. I've been drawing more and more movie props and similar inspired builds in my sketchbook.
I've been playing with casting small pieces and finishing them. I've been reading and learning techniques to build from foam and looking into wiring LED lights and writing code for small circuit board computers like Raspberry Pi. My mind is filled with polycarbonate and LED lightsaber blades, aluminum, brass and steel alloys, tricorders, Weta Workshop, and Guillermo Del Toro.
I have always been a big geek for comic books, fantasy and sci-fi books, Dungeons & Dragons, and movies. Realizing I have the skills (or can develop the skills) to bring some of the magic into my hands has been a revelation and probably the start of an obsession.
And yet. . . .
And still . . .
I know where my roots lie. There is something about wood that is unlike any other material. It is living and exists on it's own accord without the smelting of fires or the fuzzing of electrons. It carries a warmth of texture and a varying nature that makes it a challenge to subjugate to your will. It asks a toll of you, requires you spend the ultimate resource of time to get to know it, (and still it will surprise you) There are skills to develop. A multitude of skills to develop and maintain.
It is unlike anything else, and it is endlessly fascinating to me.
I can't help but inspect nearly every off-cut I make. The fractal lines of grain and the balance of weakness and strength. I enjoy snapping them in two like a destructive toddler. Sometimes I even lift them to my nose and smell them. I pay nearly as much attention to the small buttons of wood I remove cutting dovetails.
Along with the off-cuts comes shavings, sawdust, carving chips, and finished pieces. A bottomless love affair with whip cream and sprinkles on top.
I may wander, but I know where home is. I may roam, but I know where my heart lies. Some folks need church, I just need my workshop. The wonders of the universe at the tips of my fingers.
Encapsulated in a simple board of white oak.
Ratione et Passionis