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

Bleached Ash

Unavailable

For the Ribbon Table I wanted to draw upon the work of many designers before me. The shape of these legs has existed in so many contexts that it almost feels like they have always been there. like certain melodies I know. Even throughout my own iterations this form found multiple homes, originally starting upside down as the legs of a bench. I'm specifically drawn to the movement that is created when the legs split away from each other and I'm eager to replicate this in future work. I'm proud to be discovering my place in the long history of this shape that I love so much.