A riverbed does not choose its shape. It is cut by what runs through it, year after year, until the path becomes permanent. This bowl was cut the same way, by time, before the lathe ever touched it.
The ash came from a forest, trees felled to make way for a gated community going up among them. What the lathe found once it reached the trunk was a live edge left raw and untouched, and two cracks running down opposite sides like fault lines the tree had been holding since it stood.
At 18 centimeters wide and 6.5 centimeters tall, the bowl keeps the forest's outline even now, its rim uneven, its walls following the grain rather than fighting it.
Finished with walnut oil. Signed by the maker. Accompanied by a certificate of authenticity.
The forest is gone. The shape it left behind is not.
Mexico
United States
