
A bird at the moment it commits to the air. Not a carving of a bird — the shape a bird makes when it stops being on the ground. The apple gave me one clean sweep of grain and I followed it, leaving the wing thin enough to catch light through the edge and the body heavy enough that the whole thing still feels like it wants to lift.
Apple moves as it dries and it will not forgive a shape it does not agree with. This one held. Every face is finished, because a sculpture that only works from the front is a picture, not an object.
This one came out of St. Boniface. Apple grows slowly and rarely gives you a piece this size to work with, so when a tree comes down here it gets carried home rather than cut for firewood. The glow marks the neighbourhood. Exact addresses stay private.








One of one. When it is gone, it is gone. Ships worldwide, fully insured, from the Winnipeg workshop. Every piece carries its tree’s record: where it stood, its rings, and the carving on film. Leave your details and Sean replies personally, usually the same day.