The paradox of spoon carving is that the same technology supporting the culture is the very thing leaving us thirsty for a connection with something physical. We want to touch wood because we are inundated with digital images of forests even while we are stuck, many of us, inside.
The precise simplicity of a knife feels good after a day stumbling through the bewildering infinity of the digital landscape. The slowness of the craft is the appeal. It is an antidote to the modern dilemma of overstimulation and virtual reality. But rather than a turning back to some nostalgic, rose-colored idea of what spoon carving was, I see this beautiful community claiming spoon carving as something that matters now, perhaps more than it ever has.
In a time when we scatter our thoughts through satellites and fiber-optic cables, to bring your attention, your intent and the careful use of your hands back down to a knife and a bit of wood is a revolutionary act. It is a quiet rebellion against the idea of entertainment as something that we passively take in. It centers you, grounds you, forces you for a few moments to attend the reality of your material surroundings.
Your mind may be racing, but it soon quiets.
Your day may be full of complications, but not this present moment. For now, there is just the cut you are making.
And the next one, and the next one.
Make it count.
– Emmet Van Driesche, Greenwood Spoon Carving (Pre-order your copy before July 3rd for free domestic shipping!)