I find myself being drawn more and more to working with Willow, reading about Willow, learning about Willow, and just sitting with Willow. The more I work, read, learn, and sit, the more deeply enamoured of this beautiful wood I become. It is truly magical and rightly associated with The Lady Of The Moon.
To look upon, and to touch, this wood, is to look upon, and touch, true beauty. I cannot help but let my eyes linger on, and my fingers lightly brush over, this wood – as I do so, I slip into reverie; I move through other realms, and time becomes meaningless. The Lady Of The Moon looks down upon my wanderings and smiles gently; her eyes, her smile, are Love and Life.
Can I do justice to this gift that is freely given? I sincerely doubt it, but I try. Sometimes I have a plan, a picture, an idea, but other times, like this time, I have nothing, just a need to seek out and work with this wood.
So it was when I started this chair. I walked, I looked, and I lingered; then I gathered, not knowing what I was going to do. The reverie had began and I knew I just had to follow it.
All I knew for sure when I started was that I would like to see the wood beneath the bark, so I removed the outer layers, much to the joy of the chickens.
Then, without realising what I’d done, or how I’d done it, I arrived here:
Here I stopped briefly, more of a breath, before starting again, breathing deeply of the aroma of fresh aromatic smoke and fresh wood shavings – my lungs filled, my eyes absorbed, and I was invigorated.
Before starting to work on the seat, there was the small matter of selecting arms – an embracing curve, wrapping around and holding – protecting…….
Scarlett barked Birch, to satiate the senses and the soul’s desire.
The only wood that I could even begin to contemplate using for this chair was from my meagre, and rapidly dwindling, stock of utterly sublime Yew. I am smitten by this wood, and it is the perfect companion to Willow – at least in my eyes.
As I was planing and sanding the Yew, slowly moving from rough cut lump of wood, to magnificently grained wonder, I couldn’t help but smile; I imagined the colours and the rich glow that would eminate from deep within once I started to apply wax. But, before that, there was more to do – cutting, shaping, filing, planing, sanding, staring, sanding, and some more staring.
A break. Some coffee. Stare back at the cows, watching my every move, at the bottom of the garden. all the time remaining in the reverie, detached from the everyday, and the mundane. This was magical, ethereal and utterly enchanting.
The arms I cut a little over length to allow for the possibility of cracking, and also to let me visualise how they would look when forming part of the chair – maybe they wouldn’t need shortening as I planned!
They will need shortening, but that is for another day.
For now I must leave the Willow and the Moon, thankful for the deep, deep reverie that has enveloped me.