Reign and Bow

No burns. No nicks. Nothing out of square. No spaces between but the ones intended (in tension). No sign of the glue that binds, the buried metals which link. Cover all indications of construction, of the un-natural, the created un-create, with further agents still. Those which conceal themselves in color, in the spectrums through which, understanding sensorily, we visibly illuse ourselves. And why? So to produce a thing so well-pieced that we fail to notice, in the great variety of nuance, what possibilities rise naturally? So to deny testing our eyes to the focus of our minds. To avoid the strain of perception to the things that do not quite fit. (How else do we learn? What creatures else are we?) What value do we give the aspect which cannot immediately be aligned, which heralds the line between observation and feeling? And yet the wood tests us, with knots and wild grains, those particular signs of having lived and strained over something, too. It speaks volumes that we design plasticized wood to reflect the truth of these imperfections. That we create reflections and trade a higher value for a more resembled truth.

Not to say, now, that the craft of perfection is not admirable. As any anomaly, it is curious. Why would we demand such precision? The rocket scientist would answer well here. As would the architect and the engineer. As would the philosopher, so honed of mind as to wheel her own kinks. But even the machine requires oil to run (and, once upon a time, the manipulations of hands run through with curves and dimples and scars). And so when we speak of perfectionism, we might as well speak of striving- because is not this the point? The moving toward, the journey, the act itself, and not the peak, not the ultimate or ultimatum, but the search. And what plateaus do entice us along the way. What discovery encounters us. Learn from the curve a tired arm left in the plastered wall. Shape it as a spur departs crow’s flight path. Note the way a tilted frame catches your eye like something that should not be: why? We are building a home of textures and substance, layers upon layers of historic and present building knowledge and technique and here we stand, calamity we are, admiring what we learn about what was once known. The perfectionist will forget and will be forgotten if she leaves nothing surprising to wonder at the being of.

Build cabinets, small containers for the things of our modern lives. Build walls of waste and earth. Build them all with touch, leaving your literal and your figurative prints. Otherwise, what else will catch eyes from the mundanity of intention?

Suspect more than the modern mind is wont to be sold. We can shift this tendency of mind to desire what is created to be packaged to be bought. Begin by taking into your hands the things you desire as the things you create as the things you shape. Whatever you make, make it yourself.

Does the rainbow ever seem to fit in the sky?And yet it is wholly the spectrum of everything around it, momentarily exposed in a fluke of light and atmosphere and eyes.

Comments
One Response to “Reign and Bow”
  1. Eddy Winko says:

    Emotional and powerful stuff!

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