Craftsman & Mimose
Craftsman Craftsman
Mimose Mimose
Mimose Mimose
Did you ever notice how the veins on a leaf look like the grain in a board? I was just comparing patterns and wondered if you ever use a leaf’s shape as a template for carving.
Craftsman Craftsman
I’ve stared at a leaf’s veins more times than I’ve measured a board. The way the grain runs, the subtle twists, it’s a reminder of nature’s patience. I’ve taken a leaf and traced its outline on a piece of pine, letting the curves guide a relief panel. The result is a bit more organic, a hint of wilderness tucked into a tabletop. It’s a trick that keeps the work fresh, but only if the pattern doesn’t force me into a hurry—I still hate rushing a piece before the grain settles.
Mimose Mimose
That sounds so lovely, like a quiet conversation with the wood itself. I always try to keep a spare leaf on my desk, just in case the grain wants to whisper a new pattern to me. And remember, no rush—let the wood breathe, just like a cup of tea that never quite finishes.
Craftsman Craftsman
That’s a good habit. A leaf on the desk can be a quiet reminder to slow down, to listen to the wood’s own rhythm. When I get a new board, I’ll check if any vein pattern nudges me toward a new carving. It’s like waiting for that perfect tea—take your time, let the grain settle, and the piece will thank you for the patience.
Mimose Mimose
I’ll leave a leaf next to my tea pot then—just in case the wood wants to show me a new way to slice the day. Thank you for the reminder to listen to the quiet rhythm of the grain.