Chop chop

I saw my first chop when I was 21.

I remember it distinctly. It was in Monterey, California, at an antique shop. It was a tiny green frog perched on a tall thin plinth. It almost looked alive, ready to break for freedom out of the glass case it was trapped in. I instantly wished that I was chinese. An old chinese man, carving meticulously in hard, green jade. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I wanted to carve one, I wanted to possess one.

Fast forward 29 years. I finally carved by first chop. Not hard, unforgiving jade, but soft, conforming soapstone. You see the result. I'm pretty happy with it. Not so happy with the smudge of red I just left on the black shirt I was using as a backdrop, but still pretty happy.