On my walk this morning I paused to admire the Willamette River. It is wide and this morning it was quiet, peaceful and full. As always it was flowing past me, underneath my footbridge. The body split apart and came back together again with grace and ease. After admiring it’s awesome beauty I was reminded of my work and the feeling of running in place. On the surface the river looks so peaceful so laid back like nothing is really going on. It’s so full that rapids aren’t even showing where they usually highlight the rocky substrate. But I know this river. This river has a powerful underbelly. The current that lies beneath is hard at work busily making smooth the rocks that nest on its great gut. It seems so much like my own work. I work and work and sometimes it doesn’t look like anything is being done. But I know what is going on even if only on the inside. I’m still working on the house to sell and yes, I’m almost finished. My own work is on hold but in the background I am working on it. I am thinking up new things to make. I am solving design issues. I am discovering materials in my mind for a couch I will build in my new shop. I am visualizing production, success and a feeling of happiness that comes with seeing my imagination take shape in the real world.
This river doesn’t really have an end. It rushes on and gracefully flows and finally ends up joining another river, which ends up joining the sea. Our work leaves our hands and enters the world where it mingles with our community. It inspires others in ways that we might never know. Those inspirations have a trickle outward effect that I hope never truly end but merge with the world as they evolve and spread sparks of new visions.