At the end of the out-breath and before the in-breath there is a natural pause. In it, the body and mind relax; thoughts settle.
I recalled this as I put the phone down after speaking with Dara. My mind was racing, and thoughts were coming fast and furious, so I focused on the gap between breaths, sat down and looked at the mug of tea. I’d literally just started to work on the chair but would have to leave it for the time being as there were other matters to attend to – 12 dining chairs needed in short order, for the Moon.
I’d been looking forward to working on this chair for a while and had started with a vague idea and a lot of intentions. The vague idea involved a bit of steam bending. Having prepared the wood, I could sit for an hour or two while the steamer did its work before settling into the construction element. I could rest in the moment and consider what was to be done. I hadn’t foreseen what now needed to be done, and the work started was put to one side, the wood cooling in the form, waiting for the next step. I consoled myself with the thought that I could finish it later, and maybe, it too would be selected for a trip to the Moon.
The form was placed at the back of the workshop and space made for the more pressing job in hand. But as I worked on the dining chairs my thoughts were jostling for attention – the repetition of what I was engaged in allowed them free reign, and I worried about deadlines, construction, form, aesthetic, and time. At odd moments my eye was drawn back to the willow chair waiting for my attention; when I stopped for a few moments to look at the moon casting light over the fields I felt compelled to work on it.
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
So, late into the night, or early into the morning, depending on which side of midnight it was, I put the dining chairs aside and put in a few hours on the willow patiently waiting for my attention. It was a small gap between bouts of frantic activity and nagging thoughts, when all settled and went quiet. Brief interludes, respite, that quietened the mind and refreshed the body for the bigger job in hand, gently urging me on to take the next breath and resume the dining chairs.
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
When I had completed the main part of the chair, I sat in it and looked at the morning sky thought the open door – it was freezing cold, the birds were singing, and the dawn was just breaking. The moon was bright and seemed to be watching over what I was doing. A little later I would have to consider the back rest for the chair. I looked at the moon and drifted into thoughts that had nothing to do with chairs, wood, deadlines, or anything else going on in life.
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
I recalled an Airfix scale model I made when I was about 8 or 9 years old – a Saturn rocket, used to launch the first men to walk on the moon. It was nearly as tall as me when I’d finished it. I have a fairly vivid imagination, but sometimes have a problem imagining scale, distances, heights and so on. But when I made this model, I was struck by the scale – the tiny capsule sitting atop the gigantic booster rockets and all the various stages that would propel it into orbit. Sitting inside, suspended between the earth and moon, three men. They seemed insignificant in comparison to the gigantic machine they controlled. I wondered what they felt, thought of. Did they breathe calmly, even when the boosters fired, and the behemoth rumbled into life?
I looked for the gap, and let thoughts settle; and in that gap I knew how I would finish the chair. But, for now, I had to leave it, take a deep breath and return to the dining chairs.
When I finally finished the dining chairs, I breathed a sigh of relief, and immediately returned to the Willow chair. Rather than walk the willow-banks in search of suitable pieces to create the backrest I would use what I already had to hand. It would be formal, structured, hand-cut and sit atop the informal, earthy, natural growth, of the chair, and it would be tall, reaching for the moon.
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
When creating things, I have been told that the creator should never publicise the failures, only the successes. I can be contrary. In my tiny workshop I had a few failures, though tiny, inconsequential, of little importance, and all my own making – though they did cause a sharp intake of breath, a slow release, then a pause while I allowed all the unspoken bad language to dissolve into the freezing night air.
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
Thinking of those astronauts, I had perspective; mine were comical, the consequences of theirs are inconceivable to me.
The chair occupies a space midway between two others I have made: Metta and Perspective. It was made in moonlight and intended for the moon.
Between – Greenwood Willow and Yew Armchair – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
For now, it is Earthbound, but bathed in Sunlight.