
Same Russian olive, and the piece I can least explain. Is it a teardrop? A comma? I am not sure what it is, and I have decided that I do not care. It was carved in a moment of zen: no sketch, no plan, no thinking, just letting the chunk of wood speak and answering it cut for cut. A conversation, not a design. Wood this figured has plenty to say, veined through with phomopsis from a tree that lived a whole dramatic life on Saskatchewan Avenue, and my entire job was to listen. Whatever you decide this piece is, that is what it is.
The Saskatchewan Avenue Russian olive: rescued from falling on a house, hollowed by ants, written through with phomopsis, and the source of every olive piece in this collection. The pin marks the avenue; the address stays theirs.

Filmed on Saskatchewan Avenue in July 2024: the tree this piece was carved from, coming down before it could take the house with it. Very few pieces of wood anywhere can show you this moment.












One of one. When it is gone, it is gone. Leave your details and Sean will reply personally, usually the same day.