Our love of fire is from of old, A need from days gone by. Ere since our feet from Eden stepped, The fiery sword our sign. The fire our sign of what we’ve lost: The garden’s warmth no more. The sword our sign of what we’ve gained: Of blood, of lust, of war. The fire’s […]
This is an unfinished eating spoon from a cherry crook. I’m also attempting my first finial on this spoon. I’m excited for the finishing cuts to go on this spoon.
Today on the right; yesterday on the left. Getting better.
Six seconds of freefall in the gloaming until God gives you a shock, and then it’s a steady-slow descent to the ground, racing the sun. Picture stolen from here. My jump was combat equipment, of course.
Alternate title: Trash, Part 3
More from the walk.