The Creative Mind

There once was a pile of scrap wood, laying in a dark garage. 

It was cold on the cement.

Sometimes a little spider would creep around, running across the back of the pine, tickling his knots.

The wood didn't really like it.

He wanted to be something.

There once was a little girl that had a love for all things miniature.

Little rugs, little thimbles, little tables.

Little flowers.

Little people. 

All things little - she loved them.

There once was a storm.

There was heavy wind and hail.

Several branches were stripped of their dignity and knocked to the ground,

their fate was "mulch."

There was a creative mind...or two.

There were hammers and nails and saws and glue.

There was a whole lot of love for the stacks of pine,

the branches...but mostly...

for that sweet little girl.

It took a little time, a whole lot of patience,

some sanding and some reworking.

In the end, 

the sleepy stack of wood 

the fallen down branch

became something new.

something lovely.

The little girl's heart swelled,

the creative minds were satisfied.

“He who works with his hands is a laborer.
He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman.
He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.” 
― Francis of Assisi

Also...a little tree painting for your Saturday. 

Some day I may learn to paint something besides birch trees...

It's just that I haven't found anything I love quite the same 

as these tall , stately, romantic creatures. 

Happy weekend!