Work sucks, and unfortunately life can often suck as well. The stresses of life can pile up like fall leaves, threatening to pummle my mind into submission. Sometimes my only option is retreat. And the dance between creation and myself begins. There is no intricate choreography, no lights changing hues to set the mood while stringed instruments play. There is only myself and the scroll saw, and an endless stream of possibility.. each movement of the blade is like a thread sized broom sweeping away the stresses of the day. My vision does not register it, but each problem floats away like smoke. The beauty of life becomes apparent, and stress does not exist. The outcome of my toil could be nothing more than a piece of wood cut to resemble a piece of wood. It doesn't matter. The dance Is all That matters.. and that is what it means to me...
