Found a Power Tool
....eeeh, eeeh, eeeh, eeeh, eeeh….was the sounding of rasping, vibrating, sonic, electronic, springboard, greeting that pulled me up from my earlier place of peace-full slumbering dream-scape, into the now of later remembering, that this is my inhabited world of 2008. So once again I hit the snooze button and told myself that just a few more minutes would not matter all that much as I felt the coldness of the early morning air, shifting around within the closure of this my likened bedroom space.
—-”better to dwell within the reality of your dreams, then to allow one’s dreams to be-come the thing of shattered, and shared airspace by the many who will never understand and therefore can only promise the torment of living out their days….waiting to retire, with hopes that when time has called their name, some-one will be around to remember their name….”
....wow, that dream of ole Hank, must have really loaded my memory up, for the download to still be swimming around my head I thought, as I lay transposed at breaking dawn, soaking in the re-counting of yesterdays entry….
....climbing up out of the saw pit, the worker of wood looked around and was under-stand-ably fathomed by the appearance of what he saw from up here on top. ”Just like climbing out of a box”; he was heard to exhale as he shook the wide brimmed hat free from all the particles of saw chips that gravity had brought his way. Stomping off in the direction of the sap house and muttering to himself, I could not quite understand what the words were that he was making. Turning to the pit boss I asked if he had an explanation for what was being said….”not sure myself, but seems as if I caught a few words there, something about where were the power tools.”
I all-ways said ole Hank was half mad, who-ever heard of power tools….seems as if he’s been in the pit too long, I thought to myself as I got ready to go home for the day.
And so there you have it, and yes, I would//will dream again, just as in my past, imagination be-comes the again of my future. This world that I live within, is a place of sharing only two ways of seeing with the oneness of my being, having no-use for grey matter or gradual shading, I see either with black and white, love and hate, time or no-time. I am a relic of mine own landscape, where I have also learned to use from both sides of the veil, just to live//survive in this place of time. I remember a place before time, when the kings of breaking dawn, ruled from the landscape of reality, having sat before the round table discussions of what comes next, where often what is seen, is as having all-ready been.
Hand tools, hand working of the wood….the joy of no-power corded tools is soon lost as I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and stand up to make my way downstairs, to feed the wood stoves some breakfast of wood. Ole Hank was one born too early in time and yet he taught me how to live as one born into this world too late. Shutting the door on the last of the stoves I soon caught my re-flection in the window of glass that hung there in front of me….likeness of image they had told me often enough….but to tell the truth, I have never seen my face except for in that image of glass. So who am I in this place of my living out an existence, where all that calls my name says worker of wood…..
....and time clicked on, never stopping to ask if I minded or not. And so soon in the early hours of latter morning, I found my-self out in the barn, working on a piece of hearty oaken white wood. Having placed my hand tools in a place of rest, I found the cords that link my tools, to their source of life….hmmm. Have you ever thought about that, corded power tools only have a source of life, by feeding on the energy of an outside force….no-energy—-no-power tool. While hand tools have a life of their own, that gives vision to the hands of those who choose to use their wisdom.
....get back on track Frank….okay, okay….I was plugging in a cord for my bandsaw. Time to get at it here and mark some time, by doing some re-sawing on the bandsaw. I would say that the bandsaw is my favorite way of cutting wood, since it’s very much easier on lesser waste, then the table saw….less waste due to smaller kerf. I also believe that the bandsaw is much safer, although one must still not take safety for granted, as even the bandsaw can produce kickback, binding and blade breakage. A well tuned bandsaw will produce excellent results in the wood and if one pays attention to the setting of proper blade guide spacing, blade tensioning, blade sharpness and blade tracking….one will not have to play as much, with all those other ways of adjusting blade drift.
So lets get on with some pictures here and see what’s happening to that piece of two by four white oak board….
....cut some of the wood meat out and as to dimensions of length, well…..
....after the cut, length wise in half, I was pleased to see some great character in the book match….
....so after cutting one other piece also and then passing the four boards through the planner, I proceeded to carry them upstairs to the second floor where I will do my glue ups…..
....glue ups soon learn that they will be sharing space up here, with other pieces of wood waiting their time of coming out as ‘wood art’....
....different view, same wood….
....and so I have a question, often when I go fishing at the ocean, I will take along my whale hooks….true or false?....and can any-one tell me the story names of these? And yes, I know the truth….
”....work smart, work safe, and live, to work the wood….”
-- --frank, NH, http://rusticwoodart.tumblr.com/