My second sculpture.
No formal training, no technique.
Just a piece of cypress, a few carving gouges… and a lot of patience.
An Idea
This small empty niche outside the house had been waiting for its Madonna for a long time. I wanted to carve one and give it to the owner of the house.
The Wood
I chose a piece of cypress that had fallen during the winter. Its fragrance immediately filled the warm Tuscan air. It’s a living, warm wood—sometimes unpredictable, but incredibly enjoyable to carve.
Mana
As always, Mana is never far away. He watches, disappears for a few minutes, then comes back to make sure everything is going according to plan.
WOOD:
This piece comes from an Arizona cypress that fell during the winter. Its passport doesn’t matter—what truly tells its story is the fragrance released with the very first carving strokes.
The Work
With every gouge stroke, a little wood disappears, but above all, it reveals a shape that already seemed to be there. I try never to force it. I listen to the wood… though I occasionally leave a few bits of my fingers behind as well.
The Sculpture
The final passes with sandpaper gradually replace the carving tools. The shapes soften, and the light begins to glide across the cypress. The sculpture is finished… or almost. A work of art is never truly complete.
In the end, photographing and sculpting are much the same: removing everything unnecessary until only the essential remains.
Places That Left a Mark on Me…
Places That Left a Mark on Me…
Where Mana Is
Visual artist and traveler.
In search of places that radiate a unique kind of magic.
Some call it mana.