Brown Mallee Burl (Eucalyptus thamnoides) and stainless steel.
4.5 lbs. 10" x 9" x 1.5"
This sculpture takes its form from a billowing storm cloud—dense, suspended, and charged with possibility. The eucalyptus burl cross-section carries this resemblance not by design, but by growth: layered, turbulent, and shaped by forces that never resolve cleanly.
The wood represents the organic field—an atmosphere of accumulation, pressure, and latent motion. Its grain traces invisible currents, recording where energy gathers without yet releasing. Embedded within this field are metallic spheres. They do not depict lightning itself, but potential: the points at which charge concentrates, where conditions quietly approach inevitability. Steel is chosen for its conductivity, its uniformity, and its refusal to dissipate. Each sphere marks a threshold—a place where something could happen, but has not yet. The spheres vary in size and depth, suggesting that not all potentials are equal. Some are dominant, others embryonic. None has discharged. The storm remains suspended.
Lightning Seeds is not about the strike, but about the moment before it—when energy is distributed unevenly, outcomes are uncertain, and the system is held in tension between stillness and release.
Brown Mallee Burl (Eucalyptus thamnoides) and stainless steel.
4.5 lbs. 10" x 9" x 1.5"
This sculpture takes its form from a billowing storm cloud—dense, suspended, and charged with possibility. The eucalyptus burl cross-section carries this resemblance not by design, but by growth: layered, turbulent, and shaped by forces that never resolve cleanly.
The wood represents the organic field—an atmosphere of accumulation, pressure, and latent motion. Its grain traces invisible currents, recording where energy gathers without yet releasing. Embedded within this field are metallic spheres. They do not depict lightning itself, but potential: the points at which charge concentrates, where conditions quietly approach inevitability. Steel is chosen for its conductivity, its uniformity, and its refusal to dissipate. Each sphere marks a threshold—a place where something could happen, but has not yet. The spheres vary in size and depth, suggesting that not all potentials are equal. Some are dominant, others embryonic. None has discharged. The storm remains suspended.
Lightning Seeds is not about the strike, but about the moment before it—when energy is distributed unevenly, outcomes are uncertain, and the system is held in tension between stillness and release.
