GUTHRIE JOSEPH AVRUM SIWINSKI2025
The leaves turned red then green again, And I learned that nothing dies forever. I grew and found that life is certain to continue. And I fell in love with the process of becoming.   

I gathered plant stems and rolled them between my fingers and loved when the tar in the asphalt hit my nose. I buried myself in the hot sand in the dunes and watched the shadows flicker and bounce around under the cover of a big tree. I didn't know a lot, but I was forgiving. And I held my hands out constantly, trusting that whatever was placed in them would be something of value. A drizzle of rain was a welcomed guest because it meant change. And a rip in my pants, or a mud stain, meant they had been loved. And love was so important to me. So I learned to offer care to everything just because it exists. I was eager and honest and knew what I needed to know.
                                                                    
And now, The same birds will still chirp the same song when I listen through the window of my old house. There are still millions of blades of grass that are yet to feel a shadow wash over them. And a million plant stems to be rolled between fingers. 

And there is someone else out there hearing the wisdom that the world offers if you would only listen. 


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02 RIBBON TABLE
October 2024


34 x  34 x 17.75

Ash

Unavailable

This piece reverses the anatomy of a standard table. It is solid on top and remains in unpierced planer, as the legs mirror each other and touch the ground delicately while reaching for the underside. I wanted to find a shape that could exist in multiple contexts at once, and the pieces which became the legs of the table originally started upside down as the legs of a bench. The moment when the legs split away from each other creates a kind of movement that I am eager to replicate in future work.