Jim Dearing is a woodcarver whose work carries the spirit of the West Coast—salt air, cedar scent, and the quiet observation of wild things. Long before he carved his first animal, Jim worked as a boat builder, shaping vessels with the same patience, discipline, and respect for material that now defines his sculptural practice. His time on the water, sailing from community to community, introduced him to carvers along the Pacific coast whose generosity and skill ignited his interest in carving. The stories shared in shipyards and wheelhouses became the foundation of his creative life.

When Jim shifted from building boats to carving small-scale sculptures, he brought with him a deep understanding of wood as a living material. He approaches each block of wood with an almost meditative curiosity, allowing the shape, grain, and imperfections to guide the form. His animals often appear mid-gesture—alert, whimsical, or quietly reflective—capturing the fleeting expressions of creatures encountered in forests, fields, or along the shoreline.

For many years, Jim focused on North American wildlife, carving bears with gentle humour, owls with solemn presence, and foxes with a kind of sly charm. Recently his practice expanded into African wildlife, offering new anatomical challenges and expanding the imaginative scope of his work. Though his subjects vary, the essence of Jim’s carving remains consistent: each piece feels alive, tender, and unmistakably touched by a human hand.

Jim’s sculptures are entirely carved by hand, and each one takes at least a month to complete. His pace is deliberate—never rushed—guided by a belief that time and attention are the true tools of craftsmanship. He works from a quiet studio in Sidney, BC, where he continues to refine his practice, celebrate the beauty of the natural world, and honour the maritime roots that shaped his life as an artist.

Collectors are drawn to Jim’s work for its warmth, authenticity, and the tiny spark of personality that seems to flicker within every creature he carves. His pieces carry the magic of story and place, connecting land and sea, memory and imagination.

I spent years building boats and travelling the coast, and the wood taught me more than any classroom could. Carving wildlife feels like a way of honouring those years—of shaping stories from the grain. Every animal begins as a gesture hidden in the wood, and I simply reveal it, slowly, one cut at a time.