Like many people, when we purchased our first lathe and started turning wood, we bought the wood for our projects from retail stores. But, though the blanks we bought were convenient and we appreciated the beauty of the wood, we quickly realized that something was off. Not only were pre-processed turning blanks expensive, they also felt strangely sterile and impersonal . . . boring, even.
To us, trees and their wood are anything but sterile or boring. Having spent countless hours over the years playing, hiking, and exploring in our local forests, the trees we've known and loved are filled with depth and character. When one takes a moment to notice them, their grain patterns are gorgeous: intricate, intertwined masterpieces. To us, the grain of a tree tells the story of a life lived. And yet, when we first started wood turning, none of that character was present in the material we were buying at the chain store - or even from our local lumber yard. As we came to learn, much of the lumber industry does not share our views when it comes to what makes a piece of wood desirable. After all, most lumber manufacturers and their customers are largely focused on mass production and uniformity. So, to them, unique grain patterns in wood aren't attributes to be celebrated and emphasized. They are seen as imperfections to be cut out and discarded - relegated to a burn pile.
We knew there had to be another way. Lucky for us, we live in Maine. If there is one thing Maine’s got, it’s trees. So, instead of lumber, we started looking for trees.
And, boy oh boy, did we ever find them:
Maple trees, cherry trees, a beautiful, rare American Elm, Red Oak, Apple . . . we've found them all. As expected, their wood is gorgeous.
What has been unexpected, however, are the connections we've made along the way. Each time we arrive at someone's home or business to pick up a tree that they've donated to us, we inevitably hear a story about the connections that tree had to the land it lived on and to the people who lived and worked beneath its branches. We've heard stories of children raised, weddings held, and picnics eaten under the trees we've sourced, often with damp eyes and the warmest of smiles. These stories and shared memories help us to understand that each tree is so much more than material to make wood products out of. Each tree is a gift; one that we feel truly privileged to receive. The conversations we've had and the connections they've fostered while driving around Maine looking for peoples' downed trees, have been one of the most unexpected and rewarding parts of woodturning for us.
Sure, the time and effort it takes to turn whole tree into material we can carve on the lathe is far greater than if we were just grabbing a perfect piece of lumber off of a shelf. It takes many hours and the literal blood and sweat of our whole team to do that work. But, we love every second of it. Every part of the process is, for us, what makes woodturning so great. When it comes time to mount one of the blanks we've made on the lathe, we know exactly where and whom it's from. As we carve each bowl or spoon or vase, we are able to recall the conversations we had with the donors and the memories they shared of time spent beneath their tree's branches. In this way, the process of carving each piece becomes, itself, a conversation and when the piece is complete and had its first coat of oil applied, it feels almost like we've revealed the face of an old friend - one we're really excited to see.
