Foundwood Carvings by Millard Harrell

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Millard Harrell lives in Emporia, Kansas.  West of Emporia, Highway 50 follows the shallow Cottonwood River Valley. The highway travels through wooded bottom lands interspaced with soybean and sorghum fields and then it rises to reveal suddenly the stark and surprising prairie Flint Hills .  The prairie is largely treeless, except for the wooded ribbons that parallel the Cottonwood and Neosho Rivers. This is where he calls his home and where he carves Wood Spirits and other works from the bark of the Kansas state tree, the Cottonwood.

After graduating from Fort Hays Kansas State College in 1963, with a Bachelor degree in Liberal Arts, he taught school in eastern Colorado and Western Kansas for nine years. He then owned and managed his own business for 30 years. Upon retirement he and his wife, Onnalee, moved to the Front Porch of the  Flint Hills , Emporia, Kansas, to be near their grown children and small grandchildren and to take up his long awaited passion of wood carving. He is largely self taught but through the years he has read many wood carving books, which were available, in addition to attending several Wood Carving Rendezvous at Branson, Mo. and Creede, Colorado.

Millard has shown his carvings at many art shows in Eastern Kansas, including the Botanical Garden Show in Wichita, Kansas. He is a member of the Kaw Valley Woodcarving Club in Topeka, Kansas and periodically teaches woodcarving classes at Flint Hills Technical College in Emporia.

 
 

 

 e-mail: millard@foundwoodcarvings.com

   

 

 

A Note from a Wood Carver's Wife

 
 

Wood Carving is a wonderful hobby and profession for a husband. Carving is actually quite clean except when Millard is working with Cottonwood Bark after he first comes home from a "big find". Yes, the shavings come all the way up the stairs from the basement - some on his shoes, his clothes and even once in awhile in his hair - but it is clean wood.  What more could a person ask for?  And . . . Millard is great about picking up the wood chips that he brings up stairs.  Once in a while I become quite alarmed to feel something hard and scratchy in bed in the middle of the night, thinking "Oh! No!  A Gigantic Bug".  But no, it is just a small wood chip that was missed when my husband was brushing off all the chips and shavings for the day.  However, the most comical time of finding a wood chip in something that it should not have been in was one noon we had soup and sandwiches for lunch.  Millard's soup had something very unrecognizable in it and something my soup did not have. You guessed it.  A wood chip fell from his clothes, or possibly from his hair (which is very hard to support a wood chip because it is thinning) while he was eating, and it landed in his soup.  His very own soup!  How funny!  A wood chip in his soup!           Onnalee

 

 

 

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