The first pull found the slab. This one starts to know it. The hand had learned the surface — how much the cedar would take, where the grain wanted to move — and something opened up. What transfers here isn't just the structure of the wood but its character: the surge in the upper grain, the wide sweep below, the places where the ink ran dark and the rings dissolved into pure texture. Less a record, more a conversation. The tree had 82 years of things to say. This is where it started saying them.
