Crossroad
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Do I become a factory and pump out products like a machine, the very thing I dislike? The thing that I stay away from because of two near accidents? No. I create and design like a craftsman who discovers within measurements of space; an unknown and shapeless mass that allows creation to wash over like small, quiet laps of waves on the shoreline of a summer night lake. My mind drifts from present time and enters worlds of art and ideas that I do not wish for. It seeps and drifts into my mind like the smoke from the piper’s pipe. Puffs of sweet aroma slide into my consciousness. A distraction? No. Rather a gift. Something I will return to when its cured and treated properly. Truly appreciated. Truly given effort from the right place: Artisan emotion, not sweat and elbow grease and bulldozing grunt work. NOT like a machine.