
The biggest chunk from that Thursday truckload, and the one that stared back. It sat in my shop for almost three years, right beside my tools, so I looked at it every single time I walked in. Finally I split it in half. It is a section where three boles meet, and apple is notorious for cracking as it dries after you carve it; a junction of three makes it worse still. I took the challenge on knowing the cracks would come, and that I would need a clever answer when they did. Pale white deerskin leather was the answer, with brass inlays: kintsugi inspired, the shimmer of the metal playing against the warmth of the wood. This is my favourite piece. As I write this it is sitting on my kitchen island as my personal fruit bowl. It will be at my next show, and whoever takes it home takes its seat at my island with it. One more thing, a working note from the bench: apple smells absolutely fantastic while it is being carved. It is my favourite wood, and the smell is half the reason.
From the same unannounced Thursday delivery as the other apple pieces: my arborist friend's truck, several chunks of applewood, and this one the biggest of the lot. The tree grew somewhere in St. Boniface; the pin marks the neighbourhood.
One of one. When it is gone, it is gone. Leave your details and Sean will reply personally, usually the same day.