The unhewn log

When the shaping begins, only then are there names.
(Laotse, Tao Te King, 32 / transl. from R. Wilhelm)

In translations of the Taoist work Daodesching by Master Lao, a term appears that is translated as “unhewn block of wood” (Knospe and Brändli, 1985). This metaphor refers to a concentrated but undisturbed tranquillity that contains all potencies, to an unintentional being, a desire that has not yet been released. This quality is also attributed to the old masters. This speech points to the restraint of intervention, to a will that does not get caught up in earthly-material haste and purposefulness. At the same time, the realization of an idea shows the reduction of potency to a single will, to an established and transient moment. The block of wood, which is no longer a tree, is no longer part of the whole of nature. But, as Taoism says, it is still in the path of “heaven”. It is quiet and the world is at rest. It is not a finished thing that has been brought into form, that thinks of itself, that is in need of space. It is separated and thus perceptible, but still unhewn and undescribed, visible, but still in the free state of a small child.

What are the wooden blocks that one could or should think of? What do the concrete representatives of this metaphor look like? With a continuous collection, I direct my gaze to the countless, actually existing wooden blocks that exist everywhere in the context of the world and which seem to become individuals themselves through the animating perspective undertaken here. From this contemplation, which I in turn use as a metaphor, perhaps a reversal arises, in which it could be a matter of looking back at concrete human life, which would like to be guided by high symbols or, and this is probably more realistic, too often fails because of them and appears similarly battered as the helpless and perishing blocks themselves.