Spoonality

Spring is emerging in Northern New Mexico. The mountain snow is melting away. No longer is the breaking of ice necessary for morning creek dips. I've moved into a casita on the farm, and am enjoying the atmosphere as always. I just spent a few days in Ojo Caliente, near Taos, helping a friend and a seasonal worker of the farm (really a member/partner) Brett do some work on his house in the desert. Me, Brett, and Kosma did a whole lot of digging, mud mixing, and adobe brick laying. And as always enjoyed delicious food and music. After day 1 of digging we visited the hot mineral springs near Ojo to soak our bones and revitalize our souls. We dipped in hot arsenic and iron baths, sat in the sauna, and drank lithium water. Upon leaving I felt rejuvenated! What a place.

An activity I've steeped myself in as of late has led me to some interesting thoughts about life. The boys on the farm are firm believers in self-reliance, and as such go as far as to carve up all their own utinsils. So spoon carving is often a winter ritual that one and all enjoys.

Since I've been on the farm I've busted out about 6 or 7 spoons, and am beginning to try and develop my own taste and style. I like to go with the grain of whatever wood I'm working with, and see what shapes emerge from the way the wood runs naturally. The last spoon I carved included stylized designs on the handle--twisting and turning rounded curves. I was pleased with the result.

Whilst carving, observing, and talking with people on the farm about spoons, I have had some realizations about reality, or spoonality, if you will. Teague likes to sand his spoons down, and can really hammer one out with speed and efficiency. He told me he has observed a lot of metal spoons, and appreciates the superior feminine physique that sanding gives a spoon. Kosma never sands his spoon, as he feels the sand paper is rubbing in a bunch of chemicles to a device that will be put in your mouth again and again. So when he approaches a nearly finished product, he likes to make tiny little cuts with his pocket knife that are tantamount to sanding. A cook at a buddhist monastery in southern Colorado visited last week, and when I showed him a recent product of mine, he said "Very nice, except it looks like you could go a little deeper on the spoon part."

In short, everyone carves their spoons a certain way, appreciates a certain aesthetic, and thinks that this or that is a prerequisite for a fine spoon. I have received lots of feedback, instruction, criticism, and advice, all of which have been greatly appreciated. I hold a deep respect for teachers and have no problem amending the way I think or do things if it means greater health and wealth for myself and others.

But if there is anything I've learned from the experience thus far, its not what my spoons should look like or how it should be done. Its that everything I've been told reflects each individual's unique spoonality. When it comes down to it, my spoon doesn't have to look any certain way, or even be functional. I can do whatever I want, & there is really no way for me to possibly do wrong as long as I appreciate the final product and enjoyed the process. Surely I can take something from each experience? I certainly don't have to hold a single preconceived notion for each spoon carving project. If I want to do things fast, I'll go out back with the hatchet and get my spoon as close to the finished product as I possibly can. If I want to have a smooth, flowing final product, I will sand it down to a nice finish. If want to give it a hand carved look, I will leave all the little whittles in place.

But ultimately, I can create my own spoonality. Each spoon carving project can be done a different way. I can be as consistent or inconsistent as I like, have as rough or splintery or wide or small or whatever as I want! The possibilities are endless. Each spoon stave holds a unique treasure waiting to emerge from its spoon cacoon. I wonder what I'll create next?

So remember to respect teachers, but beware of words that dictate rigid structure. Every day you can create what you feel matches the energy of the day best. People's words are mirrors for their own spoonality. Why not carve your own?