The shop was a thing I did not know of
I did not love it as I do now, and I barely knew what it meant.
My teacher was a bridge
Into the world of creation, of possibility and precision.
I cannot explain it,
The satisfaction of using simple tools to create something beautiful.
But it exists,
And I feel it when I work.
The excitement, the anticipation of a project well done, carefully done.
Wood is the material of materials.
It becomes what you wish it to become, continuously, reliably,
Yet each piece is unique.
A present to be unwrapped with the tools of the trade,
And that is the part I love,
The unwrapping.