deep wood


Framing into sky. The garage-loft taking shape on Mason Lake.



Let it be said, birdloft is a very serious place. And J Libby and A Wicks frown a lot to keep apace, peering out from below personal, hand-carved Tacoma rain clouds. Like all self-respecting workers of wood, we understand that words are extraneous and to be looked upon with suspicion. Words are devilish. Words are cloud-like. Cat-like. They drift off course, ignore, confound. Nevertheless, without them wood won’t talk. So J Libby is using his words – his words in this case, carefully and respectfully – in an attempt to speak on behalf of wood and birdloft.

Wood is more beautiful than anything else. There is no other material that can touch wood. That is the nut. Of all beautiful things, wood is the most-est. Everyone knows this. How it grounds us and lifts us. Like Emily Dickinson said, how hope is the thing with feathers. Wood is like that, too, with its whorls and gnarls and roots. It can reconnect us if we let it.

That said, I’ll end here, and plan to develop this theory in more depth as time and words allow. For now, suffice it to say, there is nothing quite like salvaging gorgeous dirty old wood and bringing it back. Not letting it be lost to the landfill. Reclaiming its depth and tone and shine for everything that is now and here.


   To return to the shop:



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