Woodn't it be Loverly...

I used to refer to this one as "tiny world," but I see I already called another one "exploding world." But things made of wood really are their own little worlds, aren't they? They have the history of all that happened in the years they were alive, they still have a remarkable warmth ever after, and this one is....well, to me, anyway, it's its own little world. First, it's REALLY little, maybe 4 inches high, incredibly thin and delicate. The shape is exquisite, the grain is soft, polished, and lusciously swirly. But as a vessel it's got some, er, issues.

As do we all.

Anyway, Scott bought it as a gift for someone recently. It was his favorite piece and it was the piece they used to advertise his show--we stuck the card in with it. Giving artwork as a gift is fiendishly hard, though. My co-worker bought one of the little butternut bowls last summer for a friend's wedding and the friend never even thanked her. Maybe the friend thought my co-worker bought her a salad bowl or something...you kind of wish they'd give it back and say "not my style, but thanks anyway"--she'll probably give it to the thrift shop. My co-worker would have loved it for herself (and it was nice of her to buy it from the show last summer--meant a lot to me). Still, Scott was right about getting this. It's not useful, it's not big and showy, but it is perfect in its own way: as enigmatically beautiful and strange as life itself.