There is something so appealing about wood. The strength, the beauty. The adaptability. It has a life beyond the cut. One could say, even a new one. The scent of reassurance that fills the air, overtaking the noise of any blade, to me smells like growth. Like spring itself. 

Wood is not plenty in France. It came as such a welcome surprise yesterday, while walking up the hill. The scent wafted beneath my footsteps. Lifting me just when my thoughts began to drag. Certainly it was for something my neighbors needed, but who am I not to ride upon the air of reassurance? So I let myself be lifted above the cut.

We are in our limited humid season here in Aix. The wood I have for panels in the studio is struggling. And just like it is for everything, for everyone I suppose, sometimes the “center cannot hold.” I made the decision to cut the large sheet of wood in half. Reducing the pressure, the chaos of the current environment. The scent seemed to sigh in relief. In the letting go. The now two panels relaxed. 

I only mention it to remind myself, perhaps you as well, to break free of the cling. To let go the chaos. To allow yourself to be transformed. To be lifted. Even in the time,  the place of unplenty, it wafts beneath our steps. Changed, growing, even cut, we joyfully keep going.