In California’s unending drought, trees die at an alarming rate. With each death, a beautiful thing is removed from the world.
In the wood they leave behind, the beauty of the tree remains.
By working this wood carefully, one can illuminate that beauty, memorializing the tree.
On the forest floor, the wood appears as a featureless grey lump. While it was alive, the tree created extravagant form and color, burls and fractal branches, patterns swirling unseen under the bark.
Revealing this is satisfying work.
Everything alive is beautiful, but you can’t always see it. The endeavor of making it visible is a kind of worship.
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