Totem Pole
In this series of totemic forms, crafted from reclaimed silvered red cedar, the conversation between earth and sky takes on a deeper meaning—it becomes a reflection of our own journey through the known and the unknown, the tangible and the transcendent. These totems are not just objects; they are storytellers, symbols of the human experience where light and shadow, security and adventure, are always in motion. Made from reclaimed wood that has developed a silver patina over time, they carry a quiet wisdom—proof that even discarded materials hold stories, beauty, and a new purpose waiting to be discovered.
Their vertical forms stretch upward, mirroring our instinct to push beyond limits, to seek something greater, to step into the unknown. Yet, for all their reach, they remain firmly rooted—grounded, offering a sense of refuge. In this way, they embody the dual nature of our lives: the pull between seeking and settling, between movement and stillness.
Light is the only element that transforms them. It moves across the textured surfaces, shifting what is visible and what remains hidden—just like the way our own experiences shape us. It highlights strengths, casts shadows on fears, and reveals the fragile, yet resilient, essence of who we are. This light doesn’t simply illuminate; it invites reflection. Like these totems, we, too, are shaped by time, by encounters, by the forces that leave their mark on us.
The choice of silvered red cedar—rescued, repurposed, and given new life—is intentional. It’s a quiet challenge to the way we think about materials, value, and permanence. It asks us to look at what we overlook, to reconsider what we discard, and to find beauty in what has already lived a life. In a world of constant consumption, these totems remind us that transformation is always possible, that stories never really end—they just take new forms.
In their stillness, these totems create a space to pause. They bring together opposites—light and shadow, ascent and grounding—encouraging us to reflect on our own balance between striving and staying rooted. Ultimately, they act as mirrors, inviting each viewer to step into their own story, to see meaning in both the reaching and the resting, and to recognize the quiet potential in the materials—and moments—we often leave behind.
