Piles
Working in the countryside has a lot to do with piles (not the complaint, but of materials) Piles of things are constantly being moved from one place to another, gathered, bundled together, harvested, moved, mown, stacked, un-stacked, restacked, spread about.
Wood features prominently, there is something very satisfying about a neatly stacked wood pile, chunks and slices of timber ready to be used when the cold comes. Equally a ramshackle and disordered pile of wood has its appeal, bits of timber left over from a past construction, rotting logs and old window frames all thrown together and looking for a use.
My shards of left over veneer reminded me of this. Sitting in little piles they were too good to throw away looking like a snapshot of a miniature timber yard.
I was also reminded of the frequent and horrific sight at art school of piles of boards and off cuts strewn in and around the college skip; leftovers of art making and exhibiting. The aftermath of the 8×4 and the continual cycle of waste.
