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Blog entry by frank posted 01-03-2007 03:09 PM 724 reads 0 times favorited 4 comments Add to Favorites Watch

eleemosynary

”....what do we inherit if not the understanding of who lights the fire that spills from yonder tree....?”

—-and so the passion burned within the bosom of the tree,
till the ground shook from the footsteps of the woodsman who was passing by,
and feeling a hot and fiery breath that touched his soul with quaking zest,
this one turned and called a name from heavens past.

....and time stood still within that space betwixt the ticking-tock,
as all creation gasped for one gapping moment at what befell,
they now beheld as when the soul of adam came from eons past,
and stopped to rest his weary head and dreamed my glories to tell!

—-i am a soul who dreams by giving bodies to words of all,
as this furore that beats within my chest instills a zestful quest,
and so i pass these mercy alms to souls such as you,
believing that you might give my words a garden to grow….

I am a worker of wood who loves the wood and the stories that are inherently written within these pieces of wood. The stories they tell are the words I spell and these words are my sense of freedom as I am wordsmithing into territories of uncharted domains of art. Where art is most found alive is right within the heart of souls such as us. Art as I know it has no boundaries except for those that one would self impose or inflict upon themselves and is best viewed in the light of graceful mercy as already having triumped over all that came before. The wood I write is the grainful interpatation of the art that inspires.

Have a very good day!!!
GODSPEED,
Frank

rusticwoodman@gmail.com
www.frank.wordpress.com

-- --frank, NH, http://rusticwoodart.tumblr.com/



4 comments so far

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Don

2603 posts in 3644 days


#1 posted 01-04-2007 01:17 AM

So, does every piece of wood have a story written within?

-- CanuckDon "I just love small wooden boxes!" http://www.dpb-photos.com/

View frank's profile

frank

1492 posts in 3674 days


#2 posted 01-04-2007 02:35 AM

—-well of course Don, to those who have the ears to hear and eyes to see! If you have the time to listen, then the wood has a story to tell.

Have you ever sat in silence and heard the wood speak to you?

GODSPEED,
Frank

-- --frank, NH, http://rusticwoodart.tumblr.com/

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Don

2603 posts in 3644 days


#3 posted 01-04-2007 03:29 AM

Well, I have to be truthful here. If you mean by ‘hearing’ audible words – no. But if you mean looking at a piece of wood for sometime and thinking about it’s suitability for the task at hand, yes. I often see a piece of wood and am immediately struck by the notion it would make a lovely “this or that”. In that sense the wood is speaking to me – and it might even be more accurate to say, the wood chose me, as many others before me may have pickup the same piece and not seen (or heard) what I saw/heard.

Your story reminds me of a time many years ago, when, with my brother we decided to climb one of the local peaks outside Vancouver, BC. It’s about 4500 feet above sea level which is where we started the climb. For much of the way the going is so steep that you could literally reach out and touch the ground in front of you. It’s not a technical climb, but very physically demanding. In fact, we decided that we would get a lot of the vertical distance out of the way by starting in the afternoon, climb half way with our overnight gear, and leave early the next morning to complete the climb returning to sea level on the same day. We planned to leave our sleeping gear etc. where we slept picking it up on the way down. Our reasoning is that we would be well rested after a good night’s sleep and find the tough slogging a little easier if divided over two days.

Well it was a good plan, except for one thing – the good night’s sleep.

Walking through the woods during the day, it seemed almost silent. You could hear a pin drop. But whilst lying in one’s sleeping bag at night the forest quickly became very noisy. Sounds we had not previously heard suddenly began to press in upon us. I suppose what happened was a gentle breeze came up and the trees started knocking into each other, and the occasional dead-fall limb came crashing to the forest floor.

But to our ears, and we were not novices to the forest, it sounded distinctly like some wild animal crashing through the undergrowth. We just couldn’t help it. In spite of all our attempts to re-assure each other, we couldn’t sleep. We had vision of been killed by a mountain cougar, or black bear. As these animals were commonplace in that part of the woods, we couldn’t be absolutely certain that wasn’t what we were hearing. So we decided the wise thing to do was remain awake and alert and even make a little noise that would keep these man-predators away. Well looking back on it now, were were hardly men, and these so-called predators were probably more afraid of us than we were of them, if that’s possible.

Frank, I should have realized that it was the trees talking to us, but we had only ears for our imagination. Oh, we never made the climb, we were so exhausted from lack of sleep we returned the next morning to our car at the base of the climb

-- CanuckDon "I just love small wooden boxes!" http://www.dpb-photos.com/

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frank

1492 posts in 3674 days


#4 posted 01-04-2007 12:27 PM

Hi Don;
Nice story about that climb with your brother and yourself. And yes I also know what you are saying here when you stated; “Walking through the woods during the day, it seemed almost silent. You could hear a pin drop. But whilst lying in one’s sleeping bag at night the forest quickly became very noisy.” Been there, done that many times myself!

I also sit alone early in the mornings and practice meditation or sitting in silence and there is nothing as noisy as starting out, to get to silence. The mind is a very noisy place indeed, till I shut all doors, or as one master has said, “enter into your closet and pray in silence.”

I go into the woods all the time by myself and so some of my city friends will ask if I’m ever afraid, to which I answer no. In my way of thinking its more dangerous living in the city then in the woods. Ha! I have yet to meet a bear carrying a gun who wants to rob me, just as we are the only animals that I know of who seek to hurt out of a sense of fear and beastliness.

Don, this is the essence of wood stories as you have stated here; ”....the wood chose me, as many others before me may have picked up the same piece and not seen (or heard) what I saw/heard.” Likewise it is all about how busy we are, if I am working in my shop or in someones home, then I often am in production mode to just get the job done. And when I am working on a piece of wood art I can take the time to connect with the wood and hear its story.

And yes I still place great worth on the value of ‘imagination’ or else how could I write my stories and poems without this great asset. It is with my use of imagination that I see and hear into the unseen world of spirit and then come back into this world of flesh and write words of wood.

Nice talking with you and have a very good day!!!
GODSPEED,
Frank

-- --frank, NH, http://rusticwoodart.tumblr.com/

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