By Troy Bishopp
I have a relationship with a bunch of ordinary stones. Or are they?
Maybe it’s my age (probably), or appreciation to preserve our farming heritage, but I found passion and solace in saving some barn foundation stones from the bulldozer’s carnage and resurrecting their message on our farm.
There have been some interesting looks, and thoughts I’m sure, as the pile of stones grew bigger and the weeds penetrated throughout the mass creating another one of “Troy’s projects”. I prefer to call it staging. Making a stone wall worthy of my ancestors takes planning, prep work and many stones because in 50 years it will also become my legacy and I can’t have it falling down.
When starting the process of which stone to start with I remember Ralph Waldo Emerson’s quote, “Men admire the man who can organize their wishes and thoughts in stone and wood and steel and brass.” If you want a strong foundation, you place the widest, thickest rock on the bottom. For me, the symbolism of arranging these patriarch stones speaks to the humbleness of a foundation that will ultimately be buried not showing its beauty but its strength. Getting this process right is spiritual.
So I’m kneeling there with a variety of shapes, sizes and colors to construct a monument—I mean wall. Which ones do I choose? How will they fit together? Will it be strong enough to weather Mother Nature’s seasons? What will this wall say to others about you when they look at it? I suppose I could have gotten a pallet of pre-fab, commodity colored, interlocking blocks and taken the guesswork out of it, but those concrete wannabes just don’t have the soul in them.
From my days in the hay mow, working with a mason and short stint on the loading dock at the Walmart Distribution Center, I learned very quickly about the importance of overlapping the joints for a solid wall. Each stone I placed whether round, oblong or flat must be meticulously touching each other to carry the “whole” load. There is something respectful and peaceful as your hands and mind work in unison to weave together each diverse piece of fossilized limestone, sandstone, granite, shale and even the chinking pieces with their colors and textures as they all contribute to the wall’s integrity.
I couldn’t help but think as I handled the various pieces of art, how and why did my predecessors pick these particular stones? Did they choose the red one for its roots in Clinton from the iron ore foundry? Was the white boulder chosen to represent a farmer in the North Country? Why didn’t they just use all limestone whose flat sides would make for easy work? What intrigued me was I would use these in my own wall interpretation. I used the melting pot stones because I just like the diversity of things and loath the monoculture mindset.
The placing of the cap stones was the crescendo of my earthy shrine. To me, covering the work from the elements is only half the story. As I chisel away at the edges so they fit tight and true, I discover what Andy Goldsworthy was talking about when he said, “Working the surface of a stone is an attempt to understand the internal energy of the stone.” What I want most for my stones and my toil is for people to sit on my wall and find the freedom to think and ponder what other things in life need this internal energy.
On Veteran’s Day, our cemeteries hold the stones with the most internal energy. It is the hallowed ground of fallen soldiers, friends and community members. In my case, it is a rite of passage and respect that we tend to the gravesites of our heroes. There is no more important creed than to honor thy ancestors with flowers, flags, trinkets and ceremonies of remembrance. My personal ceremony includes dressing up our beloved monument stones with a cordial steel brush and wiping away the moss and debris from the sacred letters and sayings of the day.
My true sadness comes when I look around the section to see stones without love, neglected and fallow without a loving hand to care for them. Sure, they get mowed around but without the touch of a human heart they are just lonely pebbles in time. I am compelled to adopt some of these headstones and give them the honor they deserve. These humble giving stones will reward your spirituality and internal energy.
My personal journey with the stones of life is complete when memories are shared and prayers read for the spirit and soul that lies beneath them.
As my tears drop on the parent material of life I think of the words of Daniel Webster: “Although no sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record of their deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they honored.”
Broth of the Gods
»