I've always had people around me. I see them in faces in leaves and in folds of curtains. New companions join me even today: faces in the bathroom floor's marbling, and many crowded in my pile of wood scraps. They seem to be involved in whatever they're doing and don't mind me observing them.
 |
| Woman with windblown hair |
Sometimes I keep a sub-section in my wood scrap pile of pieces that remind me of certain things. Usually casualties from projects that hit a bump somewhere in the creative process and got tossed aside. But even then, when I look through that pile, I see something else yet again.
 |
| Bird waiting to fly |
For example, this piece
(left) started as the head of a woman in the wind. Was she going for a motorcycle ride?
But when I rediscovered her
(right), she had turned into a bird.
When giving it a little thought, I wonder if it was some unspoken message. Was I missing the birds this winter? Or was I observing a fairytale: did she wish to become a bird and was waiting for the chance to fly.
