Beneath, the wheels turn - ordered, patterned, always moving whether we notice or not. Over them travel the spirits: streaks of accented grain, lines of spalted, the marks this wood earned across its own long life. Each is a journey. Some run the full height; some are brief. We travel many at once - conscious and unconscious, short and long - often without knowing we’ve begun.
Which one is you, today?
Beneath, the wheels turn - ordered, patterned, always moving whether we notice or not. Over them travel the spirits: streaks of accented grain, lines of spalted, the marks this wood earned across its own long life. Each is a journey. Some run the full height; some are brief. We travel many at once - conscious and unconscious, short and long - often without knowing we’ve begun.
Which one is you, today?
