Why Do I Bother?

Here is dad’s latest contribution to my blog:

Well, here it is, Saturday night at 10:15. I had many goals this week and accomplished so few. I wanted my shop to be clean before I went into the hospital on Monday. I don’t think that is going to happen. I have a pot on the lathe that is absorbing my fascination. It wants to be something I am not sure I am prepared to let it be.

It seems to want to be a mixed medium pot. It seemed to beg me today to get some very fine copper wire to use in completing the project. I, weakly, ordered the materials.

I did complete a vessel, though, that speaks to me when I hold it in my hands. Wood has a way of doing that if you listen closely. It speaks words of comfort to me. It is so smooth that it feels soft. It fits in the hands so well and would be seen as beautiful even by a person without sight.

Am I bragging? I don’t think so. I think I am just reporting the truth that can only be found in wood. Wood is alive I think. It loves the tender use of sharp chisels and the prudent use of sandpaper and proper finishes. It rewards me when I put forth the co-effort that only a team can perform.

I am feeling very philosophical today. I am a little frightened about entering the hospital on Monday. I don’t think I like having this much time to think about my impending surgery on Tuesday. The pain is too much though and the surgery gives me some hope of relief.

I wonder what the surgeon feels when he holds my heart in his hands. I wonder if he feels the same response that wood gives me when I master it.

It will be some weeks before I am able to return to my shop for any serious work. I hope to finish the turning of this mixed medium tyrant on the lathe right now. It will be tomorrow before I can get to it.

There is a quote I have used often when doing therapy with the youth I served. It is “Wherever you are, be there.” When you are inside the prison walls don’t imagine yourself outside the walls because you waste the gift that today has for you. I am struggling with being where I am as opposed to where I would rather be.

Enjoy looking at my new pot. Imagine holding it and feeling it in your hands. It loves to be held and caressed. So do I.

Since my shop is not cleaned up I guess I have to come back from the hospital and do it, right? If I have more work to do I have to come back to do it, right? I will write again soon. I have several pots available to good homes where caressing is encouraged.

Richard Benham
Heirloom Woodworking
check out my website at
http://www.heirloompens.com

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