Left Behind
This little manawa piece began as a rounded blank passed on from an old woodturner who isn’t with us anymore, but whose leftovers still hold a bit of him.
It sat on my shelf for a while, no real plan for it, just waiting. One evening I picked it up and started shaping it the way I usually do, slow, unplanned. The manawa was stubborn, sanding like it didn’t want to be tamed, but it finished into this soft, matte, golden form.
A small keepsake shape, not quite a bowl, more like a quiet vessel for whatever someone wants to tuck away.
The rock it rests on came from a slow day on the Wairarapa coast. Just wandering the shoreline, nothing urgent, and this green, flat piece was sitting there as it was, veins running through it.
I didn’t cut or change it much, just set it exactly as I found it.
Now the two sit together. a rare New Zealand timber that someone else started long ago, and a coastal rock shaped by time and tide. Something found, something inherited. Both left behind by someone or something before me, and brought together for whatever comes next.
Left Behind
This little manawa piece began as a rounded blank passed on from an old woodturner who isn’t with us anymore, but whose leftovers still hold a bit of him.
It sat on my shelf for a while, no real plan for it, just waiting. One evening I picked it up and started shaping it the way I usually do, slow, unplanned. The manawa was stubborn, sanding like it didn’t want to be tamed, but it finished into this soft, matte, golden form.
A small keepsake shape, not quite a bowl, more like a quiet vessel for whatever someone wants to tuck away.
The rock it rests on came from a slow day on the Wairarapa coast. Just wandering the shoreline, nothing urgent, and this green, flat piece was sitting there as it was, veins running through it.
I didn’t cut or change it much, just set it exactly as I found it.
Now the two sit together. a rare New Zealand timber that someone else started long ago, and a coastal rock shaped by time and tide. Something found, something inherited. Both left behind by someone or something before me, and brought together for whatever comes next.
