Calamari Too

Calamari Too began after Calamari was finished and still would not quite leave my mind. I kept seeing another gesture-a related creature, but in a different mood. Where the first squid feels curious and mid-thought, this one wanted to stretch out and breathe.
For this companion piece, I returned to the same shorelines but looked for wood with a slightly different character. I chose longer, smoother lengths, the kind that had clearly rolled in the surf for years, losing every sharp edge. Arranged in a loose fan, they become arms that splay confidently, giving the sculpture a broader, more expansive stance.
The central form is slimmer, more streamlined, as if this squid has slipped into cruise mode between bursts of speed. There is still a sense of watchfulness, but it is tempered by ease. The whole composition feels like an exhale-movement without urgency, presence without tension.
I kept the structure as minimal as possible, allowing gaps of open wall to weave between the wooden lines. Those negative spaces are important; they let the piece feel as if it is floating rather than fixed. Depending on the light in your room, shadows cast by the arms become part of the artwork, echoing the play of movement you might see under the surface on a bright day.
Calamari Too hangs beautifully on its own, yet it also speaks quietly across a room to its sibling piece. Together, they tell a tale of two moods of the same animal-curiosity and composure, question and answer. For a collector, pairing them can create a subtle rhythm along a hallway or staircase, while a single installation brings a refined, oceanic grace to any space that favors clean lines and natural material.