Marylin

Marylin began as a collection of restless lines. Long, sharp-edged boards that refused to sit still on the studio floor, smaller shards that seemed to lean into the idea of speed, and one sinuous piece that became the unmistakable sweep of a bill. All together, they insisted on becoming an ocean hunter that is all nerve and motion.
I think of this sculpture as a portrait of instinct. The body is built from reclaimed driftwood whose natural grain already flows in the direction of the chase. None of it is carved into compliance; instead, each curve and taper is honored, so the fish's profile looks like it has been drawn in a single, confident stroke. The dorsal line rises and falls with just enough exaggeration to suggest a surge toward the surface.
As you move around the piece, the silhouette shifts. From one angle, Marylin is a razor of light, all speed and intention. From another, the stacked wood reveals its age - knots, checks, and softened edges that speak of years spent tumbling in surf before arriving here. That contrast between wild strength and weathered patience is what gives the sculpture its charge.
On the wall, this bold ocean predator sculpture becomes the adrenaline in a room. It suits a study, bar, or living space where you want a sense of forward motion - an emblem of drive for those who feel most alive in the chase, whether on open water or in everyday life. Marylin does not simply decorate; it points, always, toward what lies ahead.