And framed designs such as could fit into a window, or possibly an air duct grate, like a sun with swirled rays that could be a comet, that when fitted with a twin backwards, back to back produce a pattern seen through holes of a pattern such that triggers serious cases of trypophobia. They're trippy. And there are a lot of them. They look like they could be fitted with stained glass. An art form not seen before.
You just have to see this for yourself. And you'll go, one man did all this? No really. Are you serious? In one lifetime? He must have eighteen arms and work day and night for five lifetimes. Like this guy, the famous Hindu god, Varnishawudbowli. Tru fax.
Sixty Grit sent me a link to his Flickr account and my eyeballs could not believe what they saw. So they just sat there in awe and gazed and marveled. Stupefied humbled and shamed. Page after page after page of simply the most amazing bowl collection I've ever seen. I didn't even see them all. I fell out from exhaustion just looking.
And then I go look at my one single salad serving bowl that I bought from a vendor on eBay with a gigantic crack in it and I go, "You should be ashamed of yourself. I hate you now. Go sit in your corner and think about your shortcomings."
Go look at them, right now, and see for yourself. Then you'll come back here and say, "Chip, why did you understate things?"
14 comments:
Well, in all modesty, I do try to keep busy and be productive. And in all arrogance those are mostly things I have made in the last 6 or 8 years. It took me a while to even start documenting what I do, so many of the earlier pieces are not in that album.
Thanks for the kind words, Chip, coming from you that really means a lot.
OBTW, I did make a display stand based on your tales of how things fold up. It turned out real good if I do say so myself.
Maybe someday I will photograph the sculpture I have made - there is a bit of that, too.
Oh, now I get it.
Duh.
Your handle means sandpaper.
The roughest sandpaper I ever used was 80 grit. And man, that stuff is rough. It's like aquarium gravel glued on cardboard.
So I never put it together.
I thought it referred to your age group and grit like 'True Git" and maybe it does. I bet it's one of those double entendre things. Because you really do use 50 grit sandpaper to gouge out wooden bowls.
Am I right? Am I right? Am I right? Huh? Huh? Huh? Am I right?
There are some excellent photographs there. The bowls are great. I also liked the deer fence for the garden and the giant moth.
Chip, you're right.
Nice post honoring our wood craftsman. Maybe I've mentioned this? But many states have their ubiquitous billboards urging you to stop for attractions. Wall Drug in South Dakota, cheese in Wisconsin. In Mizzou it's Walnut Bowls.
Lovely work, Sixty. Wow, perfectionism married to nature's randomness.
LOL - yeah, I am coarse, I am old, so Sixty Grit works on several levels, as the kids say these days.
Thanks for the kind words - perhaps, should I ever muster up the courage, I will write about some of the themes that have run through my life. Nah, that sounds too pompous. Maybe teachers and their philosophies - maybe that would work.
From where I sit, I'm seeing a reach and turn toward excellence, an assist that allows the original form to reveal more of itself, its structure, history, patterns, adaptations and character . Accompanied by an openness to what is that perfectionism does not allow.
Beautiful work, SixtyG, unique, inviting, inspired and inspiring. Accomplished by the type of effort MrM terms as "pouring cement in the rain", which involves doing what needs to be done when it needs to be done to see a task through to completion.
Who but ChipA could hit the nail on the head with such understatement!
Thanks, MamaM - you called it exactly right. And while I have never poured cement in the rain I have poured cement when it was 8 degrees, out in Colorado. One does what one must, I reckon...
Wow, very impressive. Talented.
Who knew Sixty was a crazy cat lady?
I think it would be quite interesting, if not irresistible, turning a piece of wood and watching it slowly reveal itself. You picked some good ones and I haven't got past the first page yet.
MEOW!!!
My favorite part, after the first pounce, occurs at .24 mark where the singing starts.
Thanks for the compliment, Deborah, and you are correct - I am a cat person. I like dogs, too.
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