I happen to like woodcarving. It has been a hobby of mine, ever since I first saw my grandfather take a piece of mundane wood and under his hands transform it into something amazing. The story of the old woodcarver, Geppetto, who brought a wooden son to life is probably something every wood carver subconsciously longs for, even on a subconscious level.
My grandfather has passed on a few years back. All I have in his memory are the few works he has given me, and the box of woodcarving tools he used. Ever since I inherited those blades, I’ve taken good care of them, even replacing the blades when necessary, but not really using them.
Ever since I graduated from college, I have not been able to practice my hobby as much as I wanted to. My boss has been kind enough to let me carve on a piece of wood during breaks; but as I still had to eat and all, that really isn’t a lot of time. I still jumped on the idea anyway, even if it ends up with the rest of the office calling me the “wood girl”.
Just recently, I ran into an old college buddy of mine from an art class and I found out she was into setting up booths at various fairs and festivals where she peddled her services as a charcoal painter. I was interested, and I asked if I could come along and sell my works. My friend gladly welcomed the company.
So I decided to avail of office leaves to pursue this dream of mine, and I have to say, people appreciating and (yes, occasionally buying) what I’ve made is invigorating. As people browse through my items, I regale them with stories of my grandfather and how he used to carve in record time. Sharing my art with other people has made me feel alive again.