"Teller of Life’ as I Now Live Wood" --by RusticWoodArt #3: "The Mantrap of Hand Made Wood Art"

The Mantrap of Hand Made ‘Wood Art’

”….understanding the hearing of the trees, as their branches pluck at the strings of heaven, making music that creates within, the harmony of soul.”

And so once again I realized that their remains the poet in me, who in the fiery need of the moment, can throw wily wills in reverent reverse of what others have called “do as I say”, and by stretching the ‘go for-go far’ of imagination:

….create within the tempest of the universe,
parallels of un-nerving vibrations,
often filled with expressions of wood verse,
where truth is likened to galactic gyrations….

And so once again I am come to understand, as I push through this forest of woodlands where I have come to behave as a worker of wood, that there is more to my being, then meets the eye of man. Some have said as goes the thinking of the day, that I am the product of an emotional environmental dis-charged landscape, and as such I am in need to be responsible to all the baggage that comes with that way of thinking.

I know now that I am the freedom of this my moment, where the brush strokes of eternity infinite, have painted me upon the canvas of this my weathered-leathered flesh, and all the while I am living out my being in these woods that surround me.

....slowly now, and then with the cascading speed of imagination, i am culled forth into the picture story of an-other, this one i came to know as ‘old timer’....

”What is the length of your breathing as you pass a chisel along the grain of wood, to create a wood curl of continuous beauty, made possible by the seeing of your imagination? Dwell on this, and so your mantrap of hand made ‘wood art’, will live at the point where edge of steel rivals with wood, and there will your integrity be maintained as intact.”

And then just as was true to his nature, the old timer once again became lost within ‘the process’ of the moment, where by his knarled out hands from gouging the wood, the tree took on the form of birthed out flesh.

....these were the seconds of a reflected past, where i now live in the opportunities of what can be, far from the sensual delights of plugged in power tools, where i have learned beauty of balance….

—-beauty of balance is the art form of a proper stance, where i thought my-self to be the one in control of the ‘takuma’, till one day i understood the power the ‘takuma’ exerted over me, and in the action of pull and polish….

—-’i became as one within the cut’....

Have a very good day!
GODSPEED,
Frank
RusticWoodArt

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

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