The eye scans, the mind plans and the hand grasps the wood and then the sharpened tool and cuts away the waste from the wanted leaving the new formed from the wildness once growing, now halted.
The eye scans and with the mind plans each step I take to make from wood with steel and brass and wooden parts uniting in the common goal to reconcile the wild.
The eye scans yet another thing and with the mind determining the things I do to make that thing or two into another thing of beauty.
The eye gathers in to fill the mind with things that many never see within the standing tree that waits to be a stile, a garden gate, a door to swing upon its polished, brassy metal hinge.
The mind waits for the eye to scan what no mind can, contrasting light from darkening to stand against and shape the things we know in life.
My hand may never act alone until the eye perceives what must direct it to its task, and though my mind alone can never scan, nor can my eye work within the substance of the wood or grasp the saw and knife, the three unite as ever for the common good.
