Wood artisan John Lindsay expands my notions of the possible. I call him the Wood Whisperer. In following one of his works-in-progress, I’ve gained a new outlook on my transition to blogger and soon-to-be-published author.
Perhaps you’re in transition, or love someone who’s wrestling with change. Or you’re curious about this ugly photo. Read on!
ACT I: John starts with one weeping willow, maimed by storm. The trunk, in its healing wisdom, conceived this burl, which grew around the wound.
Can you spell grotesque?
Yet deep in its core there are patterns like water, a range of hues, bouquets of small knots formed from dormant buds.
Untapped potential . . .