Giving Credence To Chainsaw Sculpture

I'm going to break from my normal whittling writing to give some much-due respect to what some consider the step-child of the whittling world. And that would be chainsaw sculpture.

Whittling purists will quickly dismiss this idea, but I would hope that with my 26 years of whittling history under my belt, I might be able to sway some skeptics with my arguments.

It's true that the classic whittling knife (I call mine Georgina) has been replaced with a much more crude device - that being the chainsaw - but I have seen many chainsaw sculptures in my time that I have found to be as gracefully crafted as any miniature I have adorning my shelves at home. And yes, chainsaw sculpture is not something you can do on a lazy Saturday afternoon when you have 30 minutes to spend while waiting on an old friend. Or in the wee hours of the evening when the joints ache something terrible and you can't sleep.

But I would argue that chainsaw sculpture is deserving of whittling praise because of its sheer scale. How often do friends come over and completely dismiss the hours you have spent whittling countless hobos and sad clowns? And being the modest whittler I am, I rarely point them out unless someone asks. But with chainsaw sculpture, your work can be front and center for all to see. A Paul Bunyan (with Babe at his side?) to accompany your door step. Or a proud grizzly bear to look over your flower garden. These are not eye-sores, they are monuments dear friends.

So next time you pass a wooden eagle with talons open ready to snatch its prey or a grizzly with a fresh salmon betwixt its claws, give it a moment of respect with a quick pause or even a simple nod. This is the 2.0 of whittling and it is glorious.

And remember, always cut away. Always cut away.