When you look at your house, or apartment, or other form of dwelling, a yurt maybe, what do you see?

We adorn our beams and eaves with skins of chemical and design, to mask the naked support that our augmented forest provide.  And with these supplements we create uniqueness, character, and differentiation.  Casually we accent our support structures with frivolity, these candy shells, and masks of insincerity. Pale whites of false serenity, reds of impropriety, neons of insurrection, opaques of revolution, blues of neutrality, purples of faux regalness, yellows of cowardice, greens of misunderstanding, oranges of denial, and palid hues of capitulation.

How strong are the roots?

How formidable is the base?

How sound is the structure?

Whatever color you use to cover it, it will flake and peel away.

We are like mahogany, oak, pine, even spruce.  We are strong, pliable, and unique in our constitution.  We have raw potential capable of ascension to the skies.  We withstand weather, heat, drills, nail, and extreme temperatures. Like a skeleton our bones are the eaves and roofing that provide succor against hardship.

And to these supports we apply paint.

We buffer our lives with chemical brushstrokes we assume will keep up with the passage of time.  But the steady application of weathering hardship eventually erodes this second-skin, and exposes us for what we are at our core.  The flaking of this covering is like the passing of years, sad to observe, and aptly impermanent.  Disregarding the density of the application, the pressures and temperatures will peel our coating away and allow the winds to carry it afar.

At the core we are naked, natural, warped, sound, unique, supportive, beautiful woodwork.

Humbly yours,

J