Another workshop has come to a close, and I find myself thinking about it still.
For three days this past October, I had the privilege of teaching Introduction to Direct Carving in Wood at Woodstock School of Art. Eight students gathered around the worktables, each with a piece of wood in front of them and a set of tools they were just beginning to learn how to use. Some had carved before. Others had never held a chisel in their lives. By the end of our time together, every one of them had created something real.
I wish you could have been there to see it.
The Tradition of Learning
When I think about teaching, I think about Lorrie Goulet. Lorrie was my mentor for over a decade, and everything I know about direct carving I learned from her. She studied under José de Creeft, who learned from the European masters before him. There’s a lineage here, a chain of hands teaching other hands that stretches back centuries.
Lorrie taught me that carving isn’t just about removing material. It’s about listening to the wood. Feeling where it wants to go. Letting the grain guide your decisions rather than fighting against it. These aren’t things you can learn from a book. You learn them by standing next to someone who knows, watching their hands, and then trying it yourself while they watch yours.
Lorrie is no longer with us, but her teachings live on in my hands. And now, through my students, her wisdom continues to spread. That’s what I try to give them. Not just technique, but a way of being with the material. It’s how I honor her memory.
What Happens in the Workshop
We start simply. I teach my students to hold the tools properly, to position their bodies so they can work without strain, to read the grain of the wood before making the first cut. These basics matter more than people realize. A chisel held wrong will fight you. Held right, it becomes an extension of your hand.
Then we begin to carve.
I don’t ask my students to copy a model or follow a pattern. That’s not how I work, and it’s not how I teach. Instead, I ask them to look at their piece of wood and really see it. Where are the knots? How does the grain flow? What is the wood already suggesting?
This can be uncomfortable at first. People want to know exactly what they’re supposed to make. They want a plan. But direct carving asks you to trust yourself and trust the material. The form reveals itself as you work.
By the second day, something shifts. I watch it happen every time. The hesitation starts to fade. Students stop asking me what to do next and start making decisions on their own. Their hands find a rhythm with the tools. They begin to feel what I mean when I say the wood will tell you where to go.
The Smell of Sawdust
One thing I always notice during these workshops is how much the room changes. We start with clean tables and fresh blocks of wood. By the end, there are wood shavings everywhere, a fine dust on every surface, and the smell of freshly cut timber fills the space. Cedar and sassafras have the loveliest fragrances. Working those woods adds another layer of pleasure to the experience.
There’s also the sound. The tap of mallet on chisel. The scrape of a gouge across the grain. The occasional laugh or exclamation when someone makes a breakthrough or an unexpected discovery. A workshop has its own music.
What the Students Made
I was so proud of this group. By the final day, the worktables were covered with emerging forms: abstract shapes, organic curves, pieces that were just beginning to suggest what they might become. Some students will continue working on their carvings at home. Others left with a finished piece they could hold in their hands.
More than the objects themselves, I saw something change in each person. They arrived curious but uncertain. They left knowing they could do this. That confidence, that connection to the material, is what I most want to pass along.
Several of them told me they’re already planning to come back for the next session. That means more to me than I can say.
Join Us in May
I’ll be teaching another Introduction to Direct Carving in Wood workshop on May 19-21, 2026, at Woodstock School of Art in Woodstock, New York.
No prior experience is necessary. If you’ve ever wanted to work with your hands, to feel the satisfaction of shaping something from raw material, I hope you’ll consider joining us. I’ll teach you the basics, and then we’ll see what the wood has to say.
You can see photos from the October workshop on my Instagram: View the post
If you have questions about the workshop, feel free to reach out. I’d love to hear from you.
I hope to see you in Woodstock.
Warm regards,
Carol
