My journey as an artist began when I was schooled by my uncle Nolan on a unique wood carving technique that he learned from his older brother Donald, who learned it in prison. My first efforts were duplicates of pieces that my uncles made. After several pieces, I altered their designs to add my own touch. Within months, my own style emerged. We used scrap wood in the beginning...whatever we could find. On my first visit to Southern Lumber Company in San Jose, I spent half the day discovering an astounding diversity of woods, from aspen to zebrawood, that I never knew existed. It amazed me to consider that the piece of ebony I held might have came from a tree that witnessed the birth of slavery. The slice of oak may have provided shade for the Underground Railroad. Some mother's child might have hung from the Tennessee Pine. I touched a lot of wood that day. Some of that wood touched me. I chanced upon a once proud tree
All sliced and slaughtered on the shelf
At Southern Lumber Company
I heard its voice and found myself
Could I fulfill its destiny
To make its truth outlive its seeds
And did I dare accept its plea
To chronicle the history
Of sacred songs of birds of peace
That nested deep within its reach
Of sons of slaves whose eyes reflect
The memory of noose on neck
Of troubled waters left to wade
From hell to hope to brighter days
Once proud tree whispered to me
That it wanted to stand strong and bold again!
Now I speak Woodwordz
e
r
r