A beautiful day, so I drove to Cliffs of the Neuse State Park and had a hike. How many more perfect spring days will there be this year? Lovely view of a bend in the Neuse from a few hundred feet up. (“Cliffs” is a relative term in the coastal plain.) Short, fairly easy trails; a lot of people walking dogs. I didn’t take any pictures—green trees, brown water, moss, you know, use your imagination. Nothing dramatic, just a nice regional park, and worth a couple hours in the car to see someplace new.
If it’s a symbol, to hell with it. But if you’re going to have a symbol, you may as well try to make it a good one. (Blessings for Easter.)
Green man.
If you don’t make a mess, how do you know you’ve done any work?
We had no frost last night despite dire warnings, so the Reemay fabric has gone away for another year and the tomatoes are go for spring, I believe. As an adaptation to changing climate, I put them in the ground two weeks ago in hopes of getting solid production before the inevitable heatwave hits, and I’m going to start seeds for a second round to go in about the first of July that will set fruit after the worst heat passes. That’s the plan, anyhow. We shall see how it turns out.
Herewith, the Haps: News for April '25
Spring finds me a little scattered, because I’m trying to move heavily into art carving while still doing the stuff I’ve been doing, woodenware and small furniture. Figuring out new displays, new venues, new work strategies, and (though I swore I wouldn’t) a new brand and logo. After spending January and February drawing and carving—some I’m really happy with; you can see it in my previous posts here—I spent most of March stockpiling woodenware for the spring.
Of course after not being used for 18 months my carving gouges, though having been wiped with oil and wrapped in canvas, were spotted with rust. So I spent most of the afternoon with vinegar soaks, Barkeeper’s Friend, and a Scotch-Brite pad before finally getting down to actually sharpening them. Nothing that is not regularly used can safely be stored in that garage through a North Carolina summer. I know this. And yet somehow I keep hoping.
I think now I’m ready actually to do some old-style carving next week, and hopefully cough up a box or two this month. But there’s nothing like an afternoon of tool maintenance to remind me how much I appreciate that chip carving only requires a single knife.
This is hard to photograph—you need to see detail and scale at the same time—but here it is anyhow. “Go Forth, My Heart,” 2025, basswood and poplar, 17”x20”. The window frame is hand-joined with a 19th-century plane.
I enjoyed designing the polyptych… gotta make more windows!
Is it a salad if it has only one ingredient?