Wednesday, 22 August 2012

A Rose By Any Other Name

Summer has seen little of me this year. I have spent my days holed up in my little incense clouded workroom, carving, experimenting, pushing myself through and beyond the bad days, the good days, and the days when I wonder if I should just throw in the towel and go back to the nine to five world that guarantees a wage packet at the end of the week. Wondering is not the same as doing, however, and even when times are tough the challenge fires me and I know that now I have returned to the wood I could never walk away again.
I love the feeling of discovery when I find a new way of tackling a problem. I love the sense of anticipation when I pick up a branch and wonder at the spirit within. I love the endless possibilities, the song of the sap, the call of the forest, I love pushing myself beyond what I think I'm capable of. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't but even when it doesn't it is illuminating. A light goes on, the embers burn and I seek the  Phoenix, rising from the ashes of failure.
No longer do I feel frustrated when things don't work out, when my ideas simply won't translate to the wood. I feel my way through it more now. I worry less about how it will look and more about how it will feel. One slender piece of birch sat in the corner calling to me for months and yet I ignored it. It was too narrow, too spindly, to make a good staff I thought and yet it's paleness intrigued me. Cool and ethereal like the Moon Goddess herself...
Spirit of the Blue Rose
Slender, delicate, beautiful. It cried out for a strong, yet gentle image. It demanded contrast and complexity. It commanded those feminine qualities of intrigue and promise, of passion and poise.
Never before have I sweat so much. Never before have I been so overwhelmed. Never before have I felt so much emotion.
She knew the beauty she possessed, the soft romance, the fierce strength,  and she made me work for it, heart and soul.
It was with some regret I completed the blue rose. I wanted to linger a while, drinking in the promise of her scent, the sharpness of her thorns, but everything has its time and it was time to move on...

My Lady and the Rose
Blue Rose Staff

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