Carved Eagle Head c. 1937

Lucille Chabot made this carved eagle head – maybe from wood she found nearby, something that spoke to her, a fallen branch or something. I can imagine her, picking up a chisel and mallet, starting to pare away at the wood. The process would be a conversation, a give-and-take between her and the material. Each cut, each stroke, revealing the eagle that was already slumbering inside. The beak is open, ready to make a call to answer a question that's out there in the world. I like how the grain becomes part of the sculpture itself, like the feathers of the bird. And the way she suggests the eye, that circular hollow, makes it feel like the eagle is looking right at you, drawing you into its gaze, or maybe Chabot's gaze, and drawing you in. What was she looking at when she made this, I wonder?