“This is the real secret of life — to be completely engaged with what you are doing in the here and now. And instead of calling it work, realize it is play.” ~Alan Watts
The Flow kiss
🎼Cupid, drawback your bow And let your arrow go…🎶
Without professional lighting, the wood colour of the yellow birch dissolves into the ‘bamboo’ paint colour of the wall.
MATERIALS:
NS yellow birch, both sapwood & heartwood. Ornamentation with Pāua shell from New Zealand, multi-coloured MOP dots, 1/8″ brass rod employed for suspension within the frame. The complete work is finished with 5 coats of hand rubbed, polished, polymerized tung oil. For those interested, tung oil comes to us from a China tree nut, where the oil is pressed out, then heated to just over 500°F, in the absence of oxygen, which hardens the base oil. It dries very quickly, becoming sticky, so it must be watched, just as one does a hot cookstove, to get on it and rub out the sheen. These oil-based finishes I find most lustrous, especially when viewed from an obtuse angle. The degree of lustre, is entirely dependant upon how much oil remains on the surface, which, is why successive coats build a patina.
Fullsize templet layout, using old packaging paper with some office, laser printed patterns for guidance. Right angle register lines are used for accuracy. Yet, alas, the actuality of it all, still got away from me. hahaha
I found the original diagram of the two [one inverted] 💞, plus the underlayment symbol for ♾️ on the web without attribution, using a search with these words: philosophical-iconic-symbols (images). If there is a person who demands ownership or copyright title, please ask for it and it shall be given unto thee. hahaha
The great coverup. The 3/8″ dowels used for joining each half of the 💘’s became accidentally revealed in the process of grinding and carving, so, some form of embellishment was mandated. The plugs are end grain yellow birch. Still, not quite appropriate for my critical eye, since they alone, looked like misadventurous plugs; ∴ the maker employed 4 white abalone dots and one black MOP for further ornamentation.
Continuing on with the dubious provenance of this cyberspace pixilated paperwork, I have however determined, that it is my fervent belief, that any global economy moving forward after this COVID-19 pandemic fades way, will be birthed upon freely giving away all extra we have; with a long put off discussion about ownership entitlements and deeded “property rights” using the old English concept of “The Commons”, within the confines of the Oneness of all humanity as a starting point. There must be no inequality between the so-called first world and the third world.
Quite the trick to crosshatch 3 separate patterns within each other.
The framing is my own addition; thence arises the title for this piece of unsigned play with curvilinear lines, wood, oil, tools, yet, fundamentally ideas or concepts, which, in the final alteration, are misnomers for the real thing. Alan Watts, in one of his many talks, easily accessed in the search bar on YouTube, speaks about using words such as: ” ‘The sound of a singing bowl’ is not anywhere close to the real thing.” Words are conceptual ideas, merely representational, not to be taken literally. Hence, the word, figuratively. The illusion of reality pokes its head up for all to see, yet interpret individually.
Blue Pāua shell insert with 1/8″ brazing rod as support for the internal design.
“Because we thought of life by analogy with a journey, with a pilgrimage, which, had a serious purpose at that end, and the thing was to get to that thing at that end. Success, or whatever it is, or maybe heaven after you’re dead. But we missed the point the whole way along. It was a musical thing, and you were supposed to sing or to dance while the music was being played.” ~ALAN WATTS
Lips joined at the hip. Black obsidian, domed cabochon encircled with 1.5 mm MOP dots.
A friend of mine asked how I developed such patience with wood after I sent him the roughed out image of this wall hanging. I wrote back saying it has always been apparent from the earliest time as a child making things. Pity, I never owned the same patience with people. Mea culpa! Those first 7 years in a young person’s life are crucial.
After 6-1/2 decades of play, my spirit still carries this love affair with cellulose and lignin. There are many sins [in olden days, that meant missing the mark] followed by attempts to conceal the errors. Look too closely at any art piece — only ‘brushstrokes’ remain. This piece corresponds to my conception of simplicity comingled with complexity. The Tao of wood, yet, inevitably it reverts back to the dust of origination.
andsoitgoes…
I AM John Gabriel Ötvös, aka jayöh.