A few years ago I ended up with a rather large piece of Doug fir. The wood spoke to me and declared that it was a whale. Whale prints were made.
Then the wood spoke again and said it wanted to travel. A whale was carved and a vessel to transport it was constructed.
The Story Migration Project was born as a result of the traveling sculpture that emerged. Here’s the back story:
The whale started its migration in April 2016. It made it to Olympia, the Methow Valley, Seattle, and was lost in the San Juan Islands. Someone recently asked if I was sad that I hadn’t gotten much feedback or even a postcard from the whale. My reply was a simple no.
For me, the act of making stuff is someplace between a maniacal compulsion and an act of faith. Over the years I’ve created neon sculptures, pottery, screen printed shirts, wood cuts, and watercolors. Most of them have been given away. I like to see the joy that people get in receiving something in the modern age that isn’t mass produced and delivered by a mega-corporation. I have faith that these things are appreciated or at least noticed before they end up in the burn pile- and at the very least, they haven’t done much harm in their creation.
I only create them for myself as a means of dispersing ideas and emotions that I have no other way of sharing. The act of creation is often enough.