FURNACE MOUNTAIN BUDDHA Part 2
A Winter Trip to Kentucky Continued
Head of a limestone Buddha carved in 1993
DAY EIGHTEEN
As the Buddha begins to materialize, the community is taking more of an interest— folks come up the hill to observe the work. “It's like watching paint dry”, comments a visitor. The temple carpenters drop by every few days to check it out. One takes pictures. He is a woodworker who is farming a small homestead. Sculpting stone fascinates him. When he got the flu, I gave him a small sandstone Buddha for healing, and he put it in the woods by his house.
I spent an hour this morning and pre-shaped nine of the little Buddhas. Everyone wants one! Maybe I can sell them for $20 each. That'd cover the cost of replacing my diamond-encrusted cutting blades!
As the carving unfolds we all have taken the attitude that a Buddha is emerging – who is He? Who is He going to be? This keen scrutiny, especially from the Abbot, is not easy for me, but when I look at it as a Zen practice in reducing ego, it feels all right.
DAY TWENTY
The abbot wants to consecrate the Buddha next Saturday, so I've got to hustle. I have four days before the ceremony. I've been putting in three to four hours a day on the big Buddha and leaving time for the little ones. That's quite enough exertion, so I have decided to skip the evening chanting and the formal meals to give me the time I need.
Two issues with the sculpture are slowing me down— the face and the hands. Traditional hand gestures, called “mudras”, are complex and should look realistic. I take to my reference books to study the poses.
Right hand in “Earth Witness” mudra (position)
Left hand in “Granting Wishes” position
The face—well, that's another story.
It is turning out great with guidance from the abbot and everyone else! If the abbot had awful taste, I'd banish him, but he has a keen eye. As he critiques the face, wanting it to be less samurai and more maternal, I carve to his suggestions. "Your hands, my eyes," he says, pleased at the process. Not an easy way to work. Since this is a piece for public worship, I try to be patient.
Last week he waxed enthusiastic and proclaimed he could sell two or three of these Buddhas for $5,000 each. Are there other Zen temples that would want one? Does the abbot have wealthy acquaintances in Lexington?
I have visions of myself chained to the carving platform for ten years, raising money for the temple. If I had someone to do the heavy roughing out (with hammers, chisels and grinders), it might go faster. However, I'm not sure who would put up with such dusty, tiring work for room and board at a Zen temple!
DAY TWENTY-FOUR
The Buddha is finally done and ready to move to the teahouse. It will be a challenge, considering that the weight of the Buddha is around 400 pounds now! Plus, the rain stopped two weeks ago, but the ground is still slick with slushy mud.
DAY TWENTY-FIVE
For fourteen glorious days it has not rained. Highly unusual for February in Kentucky. Everyone says that winter here is typically wet and cold with an occasional blizzard. Looking at the crocuses blooming as I worked in shirtsleeves, or staring up thrilled by the spectacular Milky Way in the night sky, I thought, “Nah, your Kentucky winter is just a pussycat!”
Now, two days before the ceremony, it is raining again.
DAY TWENTY-SIX
It snowed last night! Several inches of it covers the mud. It plasters the tree branches, quite beautiful, but it made transport preparations damp and cold.
First, we dismantled the tent I had worked under all these weeks. Then we wrapped the carving in a blanket, burlap and towels. Next, we trussed it up in a canvas sling and hoisted it off the platform with a chain wrapped around a tractor’s bucket.
Nina, the abbess, backed it confidently down the narrow ditch-lined road. The Buddha swayed gently in the sling. There was a tense moment when the wheels slipped in the mud and snow. However, the temple architect, Haskel, kept a hand on the strap so the sculpture wouldn't swing too much. I was a wreck as the tractor crept down the muddy road, thinking of all the hours I had put in and worrying that the whole rig would tip over.
Dan and Josh had already moved the rolling platform to the teahouse. The tractor lumbered across the snow-slick lawn. Nina stopped, raised the bucket. The Buddha soared and swayed, then landed unscathed on the platform. Someone took pictures. I breathed again.
Once secured, I wheeled the Buddha to the end of the porch for some last minute tweaking. The abbot wanted the fingers more defined, and I had to rasp stone dust from the face. I corrected these and then poured a little water over the Buddha to remove the dust streaks. We checked again and pronounced him done.
When I came back from this afternoon's work on the little Buddhas, the abbot had moved the big one to the entrance of the Dharma Room. After supper, we carefully rolled the sculpture in.
The massive gray stone brought in a burst of outdoor energy. Nina calls him a “Bubba Buddha” - a heavy set, Southern, woodsy kind of guy. He has evolved from a Burmese samurai, to a Hawaiian Queen, to a Native American, to the current face – delicate, firm lips, blunt nose, slightly closed eyes, and burly shoulders.
DAY TWENTY-EIGHT
The ceremony replaced the usual evening practice. We chanted and lit incense. The Zen master, in his formal black robes, poured altar water on the Buddha and all the little ones as well. It was comical to see him seriously pouring water over the figures, just a few drops. So, they are now blessed - all of them. Finally, the abbot bowed three times before the Buddha.
Suddenly overcome, I could scarcely watch. It pleases and alarms me when people take my sculptures and use them in a spiritual way. Once finished, they are separate from me— they look familiar, but we are no longer intimates. It is as if someone else sculpted them. How curious that is!
The new Buddha made the nearby gold Korean one, with its green mustache, look garish. We used a light blue blanket to hide the wooden platform. The abbot placed flowers, water, and incense around the Buddha. The carving looked quite formal and… magnificent. In every changing light, he looks different.
Finished Buddha in a forest niche above the temple
DAY TWENTY-NINE
We sat in meditation with the statue in the dark this morning.
DAY THIRTY
The Abbot moved the Buddha away from the altar and removed the decorations. He now sits near the doors by a giant fern. I like him better this way, unadorned, sitting in the harsh light of the gray snow-covered day. The abbot wants to set him on the cliffs above the temple…the correct feng shui. The Buddha will be completely natural outdoors.
The sangha (community) gave me a delightful gift— a beautiful figurine of a Japanese craftsman, his upraised mallet carving a Buddha. It will always remind me of my adventures at Furnace Mountain.