My Story
ForLou
My mother, who went by the nickname, “Lou” from the time she was a child, was an avid crafter. She spent her years in retirement preparing for craft shows that, unfortunately, just didn’t happen. When I took up woodturning, she was very interested in and supportive of my progress. For the last several years, we had been separated by some distance, and she had never held one of my pieces. I was preparing a bowl for her as a gift, when she passed away suddenly in October of 2020. While settling her estate, I decided that I would put myself out there with my newfound passion, and when I began selling my creations, I would dedicate it to her. Thus, forloustudio was born.
There is something intoxicating about standing in front of a spinning piece of wood and poking it with sharpened steel instruments. The sounds, the smells, the moment in time; being the first to reveal what has been hiding within the log. Each cut, every curve directly translated from my hip through the tool to the wood as I shift my weight from one leg to the other. Cutting away all that does not belong to the form in my head, until what is left is a vessel of my creation, embellished by mother nature. I am as much in love with the process as I am with the object.
My work is focused primarily upon hollow form vessels. It is my goal in every piece to create a sense of “fullness”, though within the thin walls of wood only air remains. I enjoy the challenge of hollowing through the smallest hole I can, that fits the chosen form. I have and continue to experiment with surface treatments such as carving, brushing, or branding. Yet, I always find comfort in returning to the elegant simplicity of pure form and the natural beauty of wood. In the world of cooking, it is often said that top quality ingredients treated with respect and prepared simply are hard to beat. I think about that every time I cut into a log from the bounty of the Pacific Northwest.
The vast majority of the timber that I work with has been sourced locally from trees that have come down in storms, or that arborists have deemed at the end of their life cycle and in need of removal. These trees are often damaged by insects and/or various stages of rot. These conditions can make the wood challenging to work with, but also uniquely beautiful. Some of these are native to the Pacific Northwest, others had been planted in yards, or along roadways long ago. Occasionally I acquire exotic or rare pieces of timber from other artists, or their estates.
