At some point this summer I was making lots of small boat bowls as functional ware. One day a stray boat was sitting there, when it occurred to me to put something in it. First a bench was put in with some weathered wood grain look. Who would sit there? What are they doing? Thinking? I slept on it.
An old fisherman type surfaced. Not to fish, not to work, no, rather a glimpse of him during some free time. Away from it all. Having an old fellow filled with decades of love and loss singing his heart out to the moon struck me as a timeless moment many of us can relate to. Not that you or I go around drifting on a lakes singing at the top of our lungs mind you. But there is a sense of knowing, or relating to, that very person, that moment of opening up with no regard to others within ear shot. It’s a lovely thing, that type of freedom of release.
Here are some process shots: