I am about to sculpt. I told a sculptor friend that I intended to sculpt again someday and he called my bluff by bringing over a piece of wood. The piece of wood has an odd hole in it where he took out the best part for a sculpture he did, but there is still enough wood that I can begin to stress out over it.

I was able to postpone the day of reckoning by saying I didn’t have the right tools, but a family member decided to take that excuse away from me for Christmas. So now it is just me against my block wood, and my creative block, and eventually chips will fly.

Michelangelo, or somebody, said that the finished sculpture already exists inside the material, and the sculptor’s job is merely to remove the surrounding matter to reveal it. Of course we are all aware that there are OTHER forms lurking in the material waiting to be revealed too. Botched Endeavor, those other forms might be entitled.

I’ve been looking at the strange-shaped piece of wood for some months now, and unfortunately I can pretty much now see what it wants to become. So with tools in hand, it is up to me alone to Create a Thing. I guess I shouldn’t worry too much about achieving perfection. There is only one perfect Creator, and well, look how He did.