Ain't nothin to it, they say, but to do it.
I can run forever from the work lying around within out of fear and hesitation but the calling will always be one clip behind in matched strong-legged stride, yearning for attention.
Here is a list of things to finish and begin in no order--
- book binding
- trip to the printers
- mock up for fuckssake
- learning how to visualize instead of making blindly
- call Rachel
- editorial re: Emily
- backdrop re: source million dollar lightbulb
- make said backdrop
Just begin now dear woman.
Swollen moons looking up to the full bellied eye in the sky peering down to the place I sat smoking on the roof of my home--of all things, of all places--contemplating fear. Why run? Why hesitate? Finding the starting place is frustrating and scary but when your feet find the mark, there is no choice but to steady oneself and then give in like a bird to the sky.
This week introduced a few new starting places.
The future is now.
Sooner than later I will trade these soft hands in for rough ones. Visualizing the soft lines of the back belonging to a child not my own, along with his cheeks and featherneck fitting just right into the curves of my being, it is hard to imagine this blessed reality becoming but sweet memories smiled upon while running fingertips along fresh cuts of wood.
I look forward to the feeling of physical material in my hands and the comfortable rhythm that will come with patience and gentleness the more I watch, listen and apply the offered lessons to my own wood practice.
Never in all my years would I have guessed that life would carry me here, to a wood shop in the countryside to the open door of an offer that changed the direction of my path once more. Who knows- maybe the wood won't cut it either; then again maybe it will. Funny how life works. I have always felt my best at work in environments made for production. Naming it here makes the decision of pursuit undeniably real.
I am finally going to learn how to build.
Until then, there is an entirely new season to watch unfold. Come on buds, we believe in you. The Magnum is nearly ready to ride. Come on Spring, come on winds, come on warm rains, I believe in you.
|Young thing. Autumn 2007/ France.|