Live Ridge was shaped from a slice of aspen burl—dense, warm, with intricate grain. Each line marks where the tree twisted, healed, and grew around itself. Some areas rise gently, others dip, giving the surface a quiet sense of movement rather than symmetry.

The edge was left as found—rough where the bark held, smooth where it broke away. The softer spots inside the burl, where bark was encapsulated by growth, were filled with black putty to preserve the form while keeping its natural character. That uneven boundary gives the piece its name—Live Ridge—a line that holds both memory and shape.

Live Ridge doesn’t demand attention. It draws it, steadily, through its details.