From the Ashes

As a maker, there is nothing more satisfying than creating a piece that invokes or inspires emotion or reaction.

The piece in question was born among the damp, rich soil in northern Ontario.  An expanse of black spruce forest many hectares in size, roots like twisted hands reaching deep down into the moist, loose duff, unseen but always growing.  Unseen until a raging forest fire engulfed this ancient spruce forest.

Winds, weather, water and time took their role, revealing this once unseen marvel of roots – old and twisted, gnarly and burled. These roots that once occupied as much space below the earth as the dense canopy of evergreen did above, now revealing themselves.

This was more than 30 years ago. And if it were not for our families desire to explore the back roads of the north, connecting with the natural world, the piece in question may never have been born.

Skip ahead to present day, and observe a middle aged woman, with hand over mouth, slowly circling a heron sculpture. A piece made from burled root balls, collected many years before, by a family of woodworkers.

I vividly recall the woman’s expression and words as I approached her. ” This is the most beautiful piece I’ve ever seen”, she replied. She went on to explain that her family were serious ‘birders’, and that she had a passion for great blue herons.  I told her the story of the piece, from root fibres to forest fire, found by a family who had a passion for creating from wild woods. Of a father and son who worked jointly on the piece. One of the last the patriarch fashioned before slowly being engulfed by his own forest fire of sorts – Alzheimers disease.  Sadly enough, I had brought the woman to tears. We talked briefly of the beauty of connecting to nature in different ways, of the family connection and of being a maker or builder in whatever way inspires you.

I connect with my father each time I step into my workshop. Many of the pieces formed from raw materials we collected together.  Strong memories from the past connected as through unseen root fibres to this present day. A day where I am the elder, and work alongside my son’s in a workshop that we built together.

Tom Parsons, Studio B

September 18 – 19, 10 am – 5pm