Willow Enewold made a mid-life career change few others would be brave enough to do: she left the day-to-day office work of her successful accounting practice for “the hammering, the noise, the filth, the machines and the tools” of metal artistry. She still owns the accounting firm but these days she says she gets more enjoyment from running her Skylark Metal business as well as DAG, the Downtown Art Gallery. in Castlegar. We caught up with Willow to ask her more about the nuances of metal work and what inspires her.
Hi Willow. You live in Castlegar. Is that where you grew up?
I was born and raised in Thrums [just north of the city]. I left for a decade or so, as many do, but returned to raise my son here about 20 years ago. And here I am.
You say you’re a “recovering accountant.” Metal work seems a big departure from that profession. How did you get into it?
I was pretty much a wayward youth, and after dabbling in this and that and basically flunking out of art school for lack of effort and desire to apply myself, I realized I needed to make a reasonable life and career choice, what with raising a child and all that. I found I had a natural aptitude for business and accounting and worked hard and applied myself and all that fun stuff. But what I found next was that I am not the sort of person who does very well as an employee. I have a pathological distaste for authority. So, with my partner, we established an accounting practice. I loved the business — the team building, the creation of systems, the “art” of setting up a successful business. The actual “accounting” I could take or leave.
After 20 years though, I had had enough. I took a sabbatical and worked on writing a book, but that felt more like drudge work than anything. On a whim, I submitted an application to the Blacksmith and Metal Arts program at Selkirk College. Terrifyingly, I was accepted. I told myself I could always quit if I hated it, because being hot and being dirty are pretty much my least favourite things. But my teacher, Kevin Kratz, was exceptionally patient , supportive, and inspiring, and I found that I loved it. The hammering, the noise, the filth, the machines and the tools were the balm I needed to get excited about getting up each day. And I put in so many hours that I eventually became pretty ok at it. I guess this is a great example of “do the work and the reward follows.” So that sabbatical became kinda permanent. And I couldn’t be happier.
What’s the most challenging thing about metal work?
Every single thing is heavy. I’m 50 years old and it was really physically tough at first, and still can be, because I spent the last 20 years sitting at a desk. So the physical conditioning has been a challenge. And the noise. And all the metal dust. And the burns. Yeah. The general physicality of it is probably the most challenging thing for me.
What’s the best thing about it?
Just kind of everything. It feels primal. I guess the best thing for me is the feeling I get once I’ve finished a project and I can hold it in my hand. I get a serious dopamine rush. Way better than scrolling on my phone or buying useless stuff or drinking or taking drugs. It’s the best feeling in the world. And the fact the thing I’m holding that I made with my own hands is made out of cold, hard metal, it just sort of blows my mind a little. When patrons purchase my work, it’s really rewarding knowing that someone loves something made by hand and are delighted to spend their cash on it.
Have you always been artistic?
Yeah. I have. I couldn’t really avoid it even if I wanted to. Both sides of my family are über creative. I was raised as a feral free range child in a world of art and philosophy. All I wanted was a bologna sandwich and cable tv. But instead I got readings from Gurdjieff at the dinner table and art and music. And it shaped me, I guess. My whole life, all I’ve done is “create.” Usually with some sort of mania attached. I cook, I write, I perform, I design houses, I refinish furniture…you name it, I’ve probably worked with it in some kind of creative capacity.
What do you do when you’re not working with metal?
I still spend a little bit of time helping manage my accounting practice. I mean, that’s really where my bread is buttered. But I love to garden and work on my home and all those sorts of things. One of my favourite things to do is drive around with a friend and drink coffee and critique the local architecture. And visit thrift stores looking for bits and pieces I can incorporate into my metal sculptures. I’ve become a full on scavenger: it’s a great day when I can sort through a bunch of metal junk in a scrapyard somewhere.
What do you love most about living in Castlegar?
It’s so casual. I love that I can wear my filthy metal clothes to a restaurant, or my dingy pyjamas to go get groceries, and no one gives a single f***. And the clean air and all the water surrounding us.
What’s the funniest moment you’ve had while working on a piece?
When I was working on a giant bird sculpture while in school, people really loved hanging out with it in its various iterations. It had these funny legs and this big belly and it would sort of rock around so it looked like it was dancing. People would dress it up and dance with it like it was a living dude.
What’s some advice you have for kids interested in getting into metal working?
Where there is fear, have none. Don’t shy from it. Embrace the heat, the noise, the mess. Find a local blacksmith (there are quite a few of us) and ask to watch. It’s a pretty interesting process. And be patient. Everything you touch and make will be garbage, for a while. But then it suddenly won’t be. Stick with it. Stick with anything you decide you want to do. Do the work. The reward will come.
Where can people find more information about your work?
I can be found on my website, skylarkmetal.com, and on Facebook. I also run a gallery in the heart of Castlegar called he DAG Downtown Art Gallery.