I contemplated some New Year’s appropriate topic for this blog, but I ended up staring at a blank computer screen, mirroring my thoughts. I have never been one for New Year’s resolutions for a variety of reasons: sometimes out of laziness, other times, from a weary jadedness, or a simple lack of thought and planning. Moreover, the need to change is not suddenly recognized by some magical turning of the calendar. Rather, resolutions should be made the moment a need is recognized.
However, none of this is meant to take away from the tradition of New Year’s resolutions. I am not arguing against them–much the opposite. January 1st allows for a convenient starting point for difficult transformations. For many, this reminder of a New Year forces a re-evaluation of the past year, which shines light on the areas requiring improvement. What I am arguing is a greater self-awareness throughout the calendar year to notice and revise one’s life sooner than the beginning of January 1st–in effect–the personal institution of numerous “New Years” within a single year.
One resolution I made, and hope to re-affirm with the New Year, concerned the development of writing on a habitual basis, which, as many of you may recognize, I discussed in my first post (which you can find here). I had considered waiting to begin this blog until the New Year for all the sentimental, convenient, and symbolic mumbo-jumbo that accompanies starting anew on the 1st of January, but I quickly realized that by waiting another month, I was feeding the same procrastination and doubting voices which had paralyzed my writing in the first place. Instead, this blog began in December, not January. There isn’t too much symbolic or sentimental about December the 7th (My apologies if that is your birthday, anniversary, etc.), and it was even less convenient given the proximity to finals.
Therefore, I will honor my resolution with a simple blog post.
At this point, you may be wondering (and possibly concerned with) how the title of this post is involved, which is perfectly expected.
In the previous post, I shared a video of a poem, constructed by George Horne. While writing that entry, I browsed through his other videos and I found a more recent video titled Man & Machine. Drawn by the title, I opened the video below. I was instantly fascinated by Peter Leadbeater–by both his artwork and his methods.
If you visit his website (here), you will quickly discover that he has created numerous pieces of art spanning from small, interior pieces to massive, exterior sculptures, along with functional, yet beautiful, furniture. The combination of a stereotyped aggressive, violent tool of destruction with the calm, elegant, peaceful products is simply inspiring.
Yet, not only the nature of Mr. Leadbeater’s artistry drew my attention, but also the description he supplied in the video. I particularly enjoyed his answer to why he is an artist: “I need to make, I need to express, I need to… explore form and shape and beauty really is what inspires me… I guess I’m an artist because I like beauty.” For many, maybe even most, artists, writers, and musicians, this need to express themselves and explore their world combined with a love of beauty is the very reason the pursue their trades.
Even still, I was most inspired by the background story. From a young age, Mr. Leadbeater discovered a love of creation, particularly through woodworking. He chased this passion, which led him to become the chainsaw artist. Stories of individuals finding, pursuing, and achieving their dreams provides me with encouragement and inspiration to join their ranks someday, and then share my story with other young dreamers.
And that, at the core, is the purpose of this blog: to document one man’s struggle to climb his mountain and, by doing so, encourage and inspire other to chase their dreams, no matter how lofty they seem.