Glenn Gerber

Woodturning

Local Ohio artisan Glenn Gerber has a gift for taking unwanted or ‘scrap’ wood and turning it into a treasure for all to enjoy.

Rather than writing a statement about himself, Glenn chose to write the following narrative as to what he does, and why…

My Story of Hope

I was an outcast. I started out as any other tree, but life happens. Storms uproot us, branches get twisted off, diseases come and eat at us. We might also be the butt end of a timber log cut at the prime of our life. One thing we all have in common- either we are going to rot where we lie and complete the cycle of life, or be turned into firewood and burned.

Yea, I didn’t have much to look forward to. But then someone walked up and began to look me over. He turned me and looked at me from all angles. I could see a smile, then he put me down again. The next thing I remember was a chainsaw cutting through me making me into a manageable chunk of wood. I was tossed into the back of a truck where I saw other outcasts.

It was a short trip to his place. I was again looked at closely. The chainsaw came out again and he split me down my pith! My sides were squared and my corners cut. Things were looking up for me. I felt I had a purpose. Then it happened! A large garbage bag came over me and I was sealed in. It was so damp and dark in there. Yea, I thought I was going to rot here now.

I was held hostage for several weeks. The bag was opened and I was freed. I dried off for a time then was taken to a band saw where I was cut into a round blank. I was feeling good again. Then a metal plate was screwed unto me. I was taken to a large machine they call a lathe and fastened unto it. Things got a little fuzzy for me. I remember spinning and spinning. A sharp chisel was eating away at me. Long strands of wet wood were coming off my body. The spinning would stop from time to time and he would look at my outside form. I was then flipped over and chucked by my foot then spun again. This time my insides were being cut away. My head was spinning till the lathe stopped. When I came to my senses and took a look at myself, I saw a thick sided bowl! Yea, I was feeling great again, full of purpose. Then…

I was put into a paper grocery bag, along with some of my shavings. The top was stapled shut, dated, and given a name. I was in the dark again, but this time I could breathe. I was placed on a shelf with many other outcasts, all in paper bags. After all that spinning I was beat and fell asleep.

I was stirred awake by someone reaching into the bag and taking me out. I felt different. I had lost a lot of weight for thing. My round body was now oval and I had shrunk in size. A quick glance at the calendar told me I had slept for over a year! He turned me over and over looking fo something, and then I saw him smile again.

I was placed back on the lathe. My foot was trued up again, I was flipped over and placed once again in a chuck which clamped down on my foot. Things got fuzzy again as I was spun round and round. The cuts were more precise and finer. The chisel was sharper and angle hair floated off my body. I was round again and a form was emerging. Smooth graceful curves started to appear. My sides were thinned and details were cut. Then my body warmed by some gritty paper, it felt great! I was sanded for quite some time. I did have a few problem areas, but they were smoothed out as well. The lathe stopped and I felt silky sooth.

A soft rag came next loaded with a Danish Oil finish. My body was lathered and I soaked it in. This happened five more times over the next day. When he was done, I had a deep soft glow, my grain pattern was pronounced, and I had the feel of natural wood. I was taken out of the chuck, signed, dated and named. He placed me on a shelf in his warm house. I was so proud to be part of all the other outcasts that surrounded me. Some were bowls, plates, or hollow vessels which have no purpose but to please the eyes.

What’s next for me? I could be a vessel that keeps things together. I could be placed on a table or shelf as an accent piece. I just love having warm hands hold me and feel my form, or having hands take candy from me… Whatever happens is ok, because I am no longer an outcast. I am a unique, one of a kind creation, and I have a purpose.

Jeremiah 29:11

-Glenn Gerber

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