When working with wood I think it is important to listen to what the wood has to say. You need to listen to it very closely and allow it to tell you it’s story. It took time and patience to learn the language of the wood but after a great deal of stillness and self reflection the wood finally spoke to me.

And it said, You want to hear my story human? I used to be a living creature of great beauty, growing in the forest, surrounded by friends and family. Creatures of the forest found shelter and built homes and raised families in my embrace. Then some psycho killer cut me down and sliced me into pieces and then you came along with your trivial, grandiose, pretensions of artistic creation and your self justifying excuses about bringing beauty into the world. I used to be magnificent. Now I’m just a dumbfuck mirror. Fuck you and your kind human.

Anyway, that messed with my head a bit and I don’t talk to wood anymore.