Sometimes, I just get in a mood that I can’t really define. It could be boredom, might be anxiety, could be depression, or maybe it’s just a combination of all of those. Who knows? Such was the case a week or so ago. Not sad, not angry, not lonely, not happy, just stuck in idle.
I went out to the shop, intending to make something, but instead got caught up doing a little cleaning and putting stuff back where it belonged. As I was shuffling the clutter, I picked up a little soft maple bowl I had turned green and set aside to dry. It felt pretty dry to me, so I decided to put it on the lathe and see what happened. What happened was I produced a bowl that seemed to match the drab mood I was in: Very basic shape, no spectacular grain, just ho-hum all the way around.
I sat it up on a table next to the door and started sweeping up the mess I’d made. Every once in awhile I’d look over at it, hoping some form of inspiration would hit me, but it just sat there in apparent defiance. After the sweeping was done, I picked it up, but sat it back down with no change whatsoever. After resharpening the tools I’d used, I looked at it again and started going through the usual list of things I could do. Add epoxy? No, there was no place for it to go, since I hadn’t designed that in to the overall shape. Add some carving? No, it’s way too thin for any kind of carving and way too thick for any kind of piercing. Add color? No, there’s basically no wood grain for the color to enhance, so it would just be the same lackluster bowl with a heavy coat of paint on it. As I brought it into the house, I decided it was going to be designer firewood. I’d play around with one of the new woodburning tips I’d gotten, play around with the new India ink pens, and just use this piece to practice on, catch up on a podcast I’ve been listening to, and kill some time.
That’s when something happened.
I made a circle and decided to practice making flowers. This time, though, I decided not to make round petals, but pointy petals kinda like a poinsettia. When the flower was done, it looked like a flower, so I decided to add some leaves using a technique I’d seen on a video of some woman doing henna painting. That looked pretty good, too. Then, I decided to make some “thingies” that trailed down, like seed pods or a place for bees to land. When the whole flower was burned in, I couldn’t decide what I’d made. It wasn’t a poinsettia, wasn’t any flower I could remember seeing, and it looked vaguely alien. I decided to make another one, only this time I’d practice making a “stacked” effect by having the flowers touch. That looked pretty good too, so I just kept going. In all honesty, I just kinda zoned out at that point, concentrating instead on the podcast that was playing. For the next two episodes, about two hours in total, I just kept making these alien poinsettia-like things.
When the burning was done, I started playing with the purple and green ink markers. The brightness of the greens, next to the darker purple (with the very subtle shading created by also blending in a maroon ink marker) really stood out against the bland background of the maple. I liked it!
Once the whole thing was finished, I realized that I hadn’t made firewood after all, this one actually looks pretty good! I also realized that my mood was considerably better. I’m starting to think that the way my brain has been wired (or re-wired) almost requires some kind of creative outlet to keep going. Without it, things just kind of wind down to a slug’s pace.
