My beaverwood collection grows and grows and grows. The other day I found one of the more spectacular pieces (pictured here). Look at the size of this…well, log. It’s a damn beaver log!
It is possible that I have the largest collection of beaverwood in the world!
What I plan on doing with my collection, I don’t know yet. It seems to have taken on more than just a collection. It’s working on so many subconscious and metaphorical levels that I can’t begin to classify them. Why bother? It’s going somewhere. Art. Spirit. Love. Story. Philosophy.
I love showing my collection to people. When I explain the facts of beaverwood and the distinct gnawings and chewings at both ends of a piece, people seem delighted and instantly coverted to the idea that these pieces are a unique form of art and worthy of serious attention. The pieces also transmit a simple tactile lesson in ecology and reveal the magical nature of how everything flows down in a watershed.
Why it took me so long to recognize the powerful education that beaverwood teaches, is a mystery to me. I guess I was simply ready and there they were…all around me. Always appearing. Always calling to me. Always a new piece. Always different. If a passion is distinct, original, and came out of nowhere, it seems destined for something special and perhaps with someone special.