Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Log Lady

The log lady died, did you hear?  the woman of twinpeaks fame?  Can you believe, of all the news in the world, that THAT made it through my firewalls?  sheesh.  I know, its (the show. the woman) probably not personally relevant to anything, but death, for all its necessity? still a loss, a sadness of inevitability, a change resisted...  relevant, always.

These were a log that arrived at the house. Milled right in front of my eyes.  I thought these things only happened to the Waltons. 
so. a tree, repurposed.  are we so egotistical that we think we improve on nature by cutting into it? OR, do we use our vision and 'sight' to imagine multiple uses of what exists? what can be? an explosion of art, love, human endeavor?

This is the tree where they began. 

This is the friend and the husband at work, on the logs and the trees. 

This is what I was doing while the beauty and stark betrayal and transformation of the tree from hearted warrior tree to hearted childhaven tree. Its branches shorn, it was re-shaped into what will be.  And while menfolk wielded chainsaws, I was stacking, stacking, stacking... winter will not catch me unawares, at least not entirely.  Would I really freeze to death rather than cutting into nature? what is my nature, afterall, but a constant reshaping of spirit?  - another repurpose? or a joining of purpose and existence? a death so that life may be continued?
there is that.
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i'm working on weighty things of late, not the least of which is mine own inner and outer weight, and solitudes of plenty. (and much of it is written down)  i will let you know how it goes. hopefully levity will be part of it.  (pbbst)


Corinne Cunningham said...

I've missed your words, lady. Glad to see you here again.