Gradually I became aware that when you work free from previous
aims, the fear and anxiety of not achieving the desired results are better replaced by
curiosity. I noticed that each move brings along a sensorial dimension that offers the ego
small stimuli and guides the movement of the hands.
The surface texture, the sound that comes from the blade, and the burning smell suggest the moment to stop or to replace the tool. The precision in each stroke and the achievement of a perfect straight line are enough reasons for quiet smiles.
Making hollow surfaces with the tip of a blade, in replacement for a gouge, requires a lot
of patience, but is still a great challenge. In the same way, achieving symmetry is useful
to confirm the skill when itīs acquired without the help of any instruments. I like to
work with regular, repetitive movements and to follow the gradual evolution of their
effects. I enjoy using the bamboo fibers as a level curve and extracting long snail-shaped
strips with a small blade. The thinner and more even their thickness, the greater the
chances to smile. The bamboo must be very dry for that to happen.
Tools
Little by little I began trying other tools that could be found around the house: saw, metal saw, chisel, gouge, gross, sandpaper, leather-cutting blade.
Each one its way and within certain limits, helps to expand the intervention possibilities in the bamboo. That searching made me use the sidewalk pavement, the living-room door glass panel and the lower surface of the dining-room table granite top.
I have developed a cylinder-shaped sandpaper support that is very useful for obtaining soft curves.
To curve the pieces and get them dried we need to heat the baboo.
In order to do that I use the stove flame or the microwave oven.
My workbench is full of tools, unfinished pieces, apparently useless objects, and many parts of bamboo trunks. It offers many options to whoever intends to play with wood. Silently, I like to watch and organize all that as part of a ritual for choosing the piece of bamboo that I'm going to prune. Curiously, in that process the choice seems to happen without any determining reason. On the other hand, some bamboo stems and uncompleted pieces wait for their turn for over two years. !
Because of the portable character of the tools I use and of the reduced size of the pieces I make, I can work in the garden, in the porch and on the kitchen table. I often carry my tools and bamboo over to friends place. I sometimes work on the train, at the movies, in business meetings.
I love to carve spoons on the sand of the deserted beaches, during my daily walks in search for health. I like the synchronism of the cutting rhythm with the pace of my steps: it seems to help to organize my thoughts. At those moments, when I'm by myself, my attention concentrates on the themes of life, on the company I own, on the people I love. It's good to keep in mind the image of the person for whom I'm carving a piece. And that can last for many hours in a row.
Since I don't sell the pieces I make, the destiny of most of them is the bottom of a
cardboard box placed beneath my workbench. Some of them, the longest, remain stuck in
giant bamboo pots, helping to make the atmosphere of that homely workshop cozier. I like
to have them around as witnesses of what I was able to achieve some day with my own hands.