by Tomi Hazel, June 2020 at Little Wolf Gulch
Yesterday was cool with showers. I dressed warm and draped some regalia over my heart. Our yearly round dance, centered on the Pine Tree, was in the greater mind of all-of-us, the community of dancers, spread out across the Pacific Northwest. We were unable to be together during this plague, but our hearts reached out to each other.
We had agreed to dance in place. All on an afternoon. We had this time to think of the circle, center our breath, and align with spirit, to find what spirit has, as a way for us. Our prayers were thus released and offered through the communal practice of dancing around the memory of the Pine.
I decided to keep my presence focused, without the help of the usual crowd gathering, by doing art. I thought of how the heart of art is finding what the materials want to be. The artist comes into alignment with the world at hand. My chosen material is White Oak. I live in an Oak/Pine savannah. I make pendants and ear cuffs from lower branches that were cut off Oaks to prepare to bring fire back into the grove. No harm meant and great thanks given for the gifts that are revealed by the pruning saw.
At the work bench, the Oak branch is sliced cross-grain, with a fine-toothed saw, to find figures and patterns. The compelling pieces are then poked, sanded, filed, and polished, revealing the complexity of the end-grain growth rings, the colors of fungal stains, the perforations of Beetle larva mining, and black tyloses deposits. The Oak moves minerals to vessels near heart rot, to contain the hyphal spread, while the limb is alive. Thus we find black-hard heartwood that polishes wonderfully. The beetles drill in after the limb dies, or as it sits on my stockpile. The blue stain of the Fomes shelf fungus shows the progress of decomposition, as wood returns to earth.
I clear the Beetle holes of sawdust, left behind by the mining of the larvae, with pins stuck in twig ends. This reveals the tunnels to let light through. The bark is carefully removed and the reticulation, laid down by the inner bark in a network of raised complexity, emerges. The pendant thus, step by step, is revealed, with great beauty and meaning, in my hand. Lots of careful attention with small files and probes. Much smoothing through four grades of sandpaper. Polishing Oak end-grain is a lot of work, as one smooths over the edges of open tubes, the water vessels, in the growth rings.
The Oak guides me. I am patient for clarity. The beauty emerges from the dance. We, the remote dancers everywhere, are standing with our prayerful intentions, shuffling from foot to foot. The weather surrounds us with its music and the wildlife comes by to see what is going on. Prayer is a matter of clearing, to be open to wonder. The dance distracts our busy thoughts and allows presence. This is how we walk with spirit.
My bench is on the west porch of my cabin overlooking the gulch bottom. I have breezes and bird song, feet on ground, eyes on the Oak in hand, and moments of looking up into the Pine to carry my attention into wholeness. After four hours of this dancing artwork, I am filled with love for my community of dancers and for spirit. I feel fulfilled and connected. Burdens are lifted.
Eventually, when the Bees wax and Orange oil have soaked into the end-grain tubes of the shiny Oak pendant, the colors come out strong. The pattern of the wood is revealed with all its elaboration. Beauty blossoms. We see meaning in the image. We have come into appreciation, through alignment with our work, by dancing.
I am filled with gratitude and wonder for the strength of our remote dancing. I feel the heart strings that connect us to each other and to the wonder of creation. Nature blesses us if we pay attention and let ourselves be transported into the wonder of life and spirit.
All things have spirit. We are all part of the great wonder. Our intention is to join in the compassion of that immense love. Blessings flow with all of this. I am humbled by the deep and wide inclusiveness of dancing. “The spirit of the people is equal to the power of the land.”
