Skip to main content

That's burl, dude...

“That’s burl, dude, just saying,” has to be said with a slight upward head nod and a lot of cool attitude.

Now, I must admit that I had not heard the word “burl” used like that until a few nights ago.  We were with some friends who are from Colorado, and it was a phrase they used, kind of like “gnarly, dude.”  As we talked, we all agreed that a burl on a tree is really what life sometimes feels like.

gnarly, exquisite burl
burls are lumps, knots and warty looking growths probably caused by injury or a fungal disease

Wow, that’s a lovely image to float around in your head, like an annoying song that gets stuck in your brain for days and days.  Eventually, though you embrace the tune as your fave.

Life is full of unexpected rough, ragged junk, but not all junk needs to be carted off to the nearest dumpster; which is kind of the case with burls.  Because of the disfiguration, strong, intricate, mind-boggling patterns grow in the wood.  Burls are appreciated and crafted into startling pieces.

I guess it’s all in how we view the stuff that comes our way, and it will come our way.  Burls create character, uniqueness and strength…just saying, dude.

peace, love … burl ~ Missy

If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance.





Comments

  1. Yes, burls are necessary in our lives, but can turn into things of beauty as God intends

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm guessing that there are quite a few on the trees in your area...are they something you could have sliced and painted on? Just kind of thinking out loud, wondering?

      Delete
  2. Great post Missy. I learned something new today. Had no idea how burl wood was formed, only that I love the look of it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I do too. Lonny has worked with wood for so many years, that I have a great appreciation for the patterns that form - so interesting and amazing! Have a great trip ... and Happy Thanksgiving.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

it's holy week

It's Holy Week, and I don't feel very "holy." 

Things are coming apart and are broken. There's a friend whose husband has been dealing with serious health issues for a few years. A family who lost a dear loved one and marriage struggles for other friends. My job is coming to an end. And, heck just don't even bother to watch the news.

It's Holy Week, and why don't I feel "holy?" 

Because I'm consumed by what I see and what's happening all around me. Lives are shattered into mosaic pieces. And, I desperately need the One who controls life and breath and everything else to put the pieces together.

When I think of the word holy, visions of a perfect, devout person comes to mind; someone like Mother Theresa or St. Augustine. They probably didn't feel holy either. Stuff happened around them as well. I don't have a corner on the market for crap going on.

You want to know what holiness is really about? 

Look at Jesus. He was a normal guy …

excellent. how serious are you?

Have you been told you always say something? I have. Evidently, I respond with "excellent" and then ask two questions:

How serious are you? And, what's the vision?
Each could be asked independently of each other or in reverse order, stacked on each other. Answering one leads to the asking and answering of the other. I know, it sounds like a labyrinth conversation.

How serious are you? About a decision, about a change, about a direction or choice? If the answer is some laissez faire something, then nothing will occur. Serious action will not take place, and probably nothing will come of the thought. You see, the degree of seriousness creates movement. Movement, in turn creates a response.

I picture it like the proverbial mousetrap game - the dropped marble starts a chain of events.
What's the vision is directly tied to the serious question. The vision will determine the degree to which we seriously take things. A wishy-washy, obscured view doesn't require much. Howe…

the quiet paradox

I'm a music girl, but I like the quiet. So, I live with this paradox. I see other enigmas in my life - some are trivial, others deserve attention.

Look at society. Our current culture is rife in a quagmire of nonsensical. We say we care and want to love, yet do nothing. Or, worse, we simply yammer on about how "somebody" really should be taking care of this or that. I'm guilty here. No stones are being cast.

Ergo, I turned off the music to sit in the quiet. What can be heard in the quiet is unreal; the birds waking up, the guy down the street is warming his truck, the slight ringing in my ears,  my thoughts. I can hear my thoughts instead of drowning them out with sound. Sound that I normally groove on.

When I hear my thoughts, I'm more aware of the paradox. Even as I sit, the furnace clicks off and the sound of the refrigerator is noticeable; a see-saw invasion to my soul searching and hearing.

My interlude with quiet is ending. The sun is pouring through the w…