︎ zazen bozo ︎


︎︎︎ August 3rd, 2023 ︎︎︎
I’ve written before about my love for this pile of wood. Much of why I love it has to do with the fact that I hate to leave the house. Leaving the house for any reason is a considerable barrier to any and every task. If I had to go get wood to make a piece of furniture, I might not ever do it. 

Beyond the discomfort of leaving the homestead, there’s something incredibly satisfying about walking out barefoot and listening to music as I do my board calculations, staring up at my own barn, my own skyline of cherry. 

I can take my time, and in so doing I’m able to ruminate and enjoy thoughts I might not while being rushed at a lumber yard. 

How fascinating to look over at the pile of rough wood that had been sat beneath a tarp for nearly a year (I intend to build a roof before the summer is out). It’s an array of potential as I consider what it might ultimately become with rough napkin math. 

About so many boards of just about such length; trim here, plane there, ought to end up with some scrap, and I’ve got those other old boards, should be enough. If it’s not enough, I can always walk back for even a single board. That’s a freeing approach to errands, woodworking, or home improvement. 

If I had to go to the hardware store each and every time I had something to improve or tweak each improvement or tweak would be unto itself, isolated, singular, a single memory.

Being able to grab more wood from out back makes improving the house a conversation in real time, as opposed to an exchange of letters.




Bozo