WoodWriting Haiku Thursday's --by RusticWoodArt #65: Sankyaku Uddo

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Blog entry by frank posted 03-12-2010 04:07 AM 1540 reads 0 times favorited 8 comments Add to Favorites Watch
« Part 64: Ruminations of A Woodworkers Heart Part 65 of WoodWriting Haiku Thursday's --by RusticWoodArt series Part 66: A Spirit of Meekness In Wood »

Sankyaku Uddo

….standing tall I am,
last of wood gods lends it’s-self,
free form wood bench leg
—by flp


Have you ever pondered how that all wood working—wood art has to start some-where….and so I listened in silence till the wood starts talking. All wood has a story to tell if one can just take the time to listen. Should I live a life-time over again….I will never get over or past telling those tales that come my way by wood. Once my eye of imagination has connected with a story as told by wood, my hands start creating….and only then can I create a labor of love in the grains of wood.

Thank you.

” smart, work safe, and live, to work the wood....”

-- --frank, NH,

8 comments so far

View reggiek's profile


2240 posts in 3297 days

#1 posted 03-12-2010 04:29 AM

Great inspiration Frank. Always awe inspiring art that nature can provide….Hard to match the master….

How’s the barn coming?

-- Woodworking.....My small slice of heaven!

View oluf's profile


260 posts in 3066 days

#2 posted 03-12-2010 04:39 AM

The first thing my father taught me was to listen and understand the wood. I am still working at it.

-- Nils, So. Central MI. Wood is honest.Take the effort to understand what it has to tell you before you try to change it.

View Kindlingmaker's profile


2656 posts in 3553 days

#3 posted 03-12-2010 06:29 AM

Glancing at the photo then looking at it then thinking and pondering it… Dang Frank, there’s a score of stories there without the touch of the wood… You have choosen and placed a very interesting piece. the lean a whispered story or the battle scars of furious winds, does the roots show the life’s start in hard ground and as it grew it found the light…
Thank you for sharing Frank

-- Never board, always knotty, lots of growth rings

View scrappy's profile


3507 posts in 3457 days

#4 posted 03-12-2010 07:22 AM

Fantastic Frank. You have an in-site that helps all of us to understand wood better.


-- Scrap Wood's the best...the projects are smaller, and so is the mess!

View RobS's profile


1334 posts in 4333 days

#5 posted 03-12-2010 07:38 AM

looks like a hand plunging thru the board….very cool..thanks for your post. Is that oak?

-- Rob (A) Waxahachie,TX

View jockmike2's profile


10635 posts in 4274 days

#6 posted 03-12-2010 11:09 PM

Frank old friend, you never cease to amaze me. Your soft spoken utterances fall on me like a cloak of warmth. I have a question, and I know if anyone knew the answer it would be you. It’s an old forgotten poem my Dad used to tell me, but it’s been so many years ago my poor memory is aslog with too too much grain and malt to heal what I have done to it. I do however remember the first line, ” There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,” the rest is forgotten. I would so like to remember it to put it on a board of some kind. Thanks friend, God Speed, Mike

-- (You just have to please the man in the Mirror) Mike from Michigan -

View frank's profile


1492 posts in 4233 days

#7 posted 03-13-2010 06:57 AM

This ones for you Mike; and know that you are blessed!

The Men That Don’t Fit In

There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,
A race that can’t fit in;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain’s crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don’t know how to rest.

If they just went straight they might go far;
They are strong and brave and true;
But they’re always tired of the things that are,
And they want the strange and new.
They say: “Could I find my proper groove,
What a deep mark I would make!”
So they chop and change, and each fresh move
Is only a fresh mistake.

And each forgets, as he strips and runs
With a brilliant, fitful pace,
It’s the steady, quiet, plodding ones
Who win in the lifelong race.
And each forgets that his youth has fled,
Forgets that his prime is past,
Till he stands one day, with a hope that’s dead,
In the glare of the truth at last.

He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance;
He has just done things by half.
Life’s been a jolly good joke on him,
And now is the time to laugh.
Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost;
He was never meant to win;
He’s a rolling stone, and it’s bred in the bone;
He’s a man who won’t fit in.

—-by Robert W Service



-- --frank, NH,

View frank's profile


1492 posts in 4233 days

#8 posted 03-13-2010 07:22 AM

....and again thanks for all your many comments, which I do in-deed read, think about and if their is a question, I do my best to answer!

Rob; great hearing from you herein, and in answer to your question….that is ‘white oak’ which has been drying outside for some years now and so I brought it inside this past fall to use in a special project, that project is now under way for an up-coming wood show. The wood is actually a piece of white oak from a branch which I have cut to stand upside down for a bench leg. By using the principles of gravity much like the Japanese….I have un-covered new strength and character in the wood as it now takes on a new form of attachment with the earth.

....more on this one as it proceeds on a new journey of life.

Thank you.

-- --frank, NH,

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