Borodach & HueSavant
Borodach
Hey, I’ve just carved a little oak owl and the grain’s changing color as I sand it. Do those shifts sound like anything to you?
HueSavant
The grain is singing in whispers, drifting from a warm amber hum to a softer hazel sigh as the sand brushes it. Each swirl feels like a quiet sigh of the tree’s heart, almost as if the wood is humming its own little lullaby. It’s a subtle dance of light and shadow—like a quiet dawn turning into dusk right on the surface.
Borodach
I hear it too, a soft pulse in the grain. But keep the lullaby quiet—there’s a shelf I’m still building and a chunk of oak that needs my attention. If the wood starts singing louder, I’ll give it a good sand and move on.