Having gone through this thread again I'm still in a quandry.

I guess my underlying question is "To What End?"
Fleshed out some - What am I trying to accomplish with
a specific turning?

If the answer is to make a functional piece - that is to
say - will actually be used - to hold something, then I
head in one direction. The function, to a large extent,
dictates the wood, the approximate size and shape and
maybe the finish. The rest is up to me - proportions,
details like beads and coves that may or may not serve
a purpose other than to hopefully add visual interest
to the object, etc. But there's always that question
in the back of my mind - "Why the hell don't I do this
(or these) things on a wheel - out of clay?"

Think about it. The only reason functional things were
turned out of wood was that's what WAS AVAILABLE.
If it had been just as easy to make the item in fired,
and maybe glazed, ceramic, or better yet, metal - well
wood would be for building - and burning.

If, on the other hand, the answer to WHY is to attempt
to express an idea or feeling - then the wood and the
process is merely the medium and method of doing so.
That may involve a nod to function but not a strict
adherance to ALL the functional constraints.

THAT may be where craft and art begin to diverge
- different intents.

Then there's what I find myself often doing - starting
with "I wonder if I can . . ." or "What if I . . ." Turning
stops being a means to an end, but rather just a means
- with no particular end in mind.

I think of turning like visiting an interesting city. I
could take a group tour and see all the Post Card
Sites/Sights - in Two Glorious, Fun Filled Days/Daze.
Or I might have a friend there and get a local's
perspective of the place - going to Off The Tour
Route places. Or, I could just find a hotel and start
wandering around the immediate vicinity, or maybe
hop on the metro, get off at a random stop and
explore that area. This last one takes a little bit
more time - maybe a week rather than two or three
days. But I've met some really interesting people
and seen some really interesting things that aren't
in any Tour Books or glossy magazine articles this
way.

I never actually got into the Louvre - but I found a
fascinating little street of shops with musical
instruments - and a little hole in the wall store that
specialized in just paper - all kinds of interesting paper.
And I got to know the Tobaccoist on the corner and
an artist from Sierra Leon whose father was a lawyer
and his mother was a doctor. He was finishing the clay
for a very large casting he was commissioned to do
- for someone's house - in The Hamptons. And I
learned a little about the skating subculture that
hang out and skate on the little street in front of
Notre Dame - after hours of course - starting around
9 or 10 pm and going 'til all hours.

As usual, I've wandered off - which, it turns out,
is how I approach turning - often beginning over
here and ending up way the hell over there,
sometimes lost, some times intrigued, sometimes
surprised and sometimes having wasted some time
and some wood. Along the way there seems to
always be an endorphin buzz and occassionaly a
moment or two when things go just so. Sometimes
before I turn off the lights I'm amazed that something
nice has resulted and that I was fortunate enough to
have had a role in its coming into being.

I'll probably head over the next hill and see what
happens. But' I'm drawing The Line at glitter and
DAY-GLO and decopauge! That way lies madness
- or boredom.

charlie b