Looks like ol’ Spidey hit the lunchtime buffet at Oscar’s and got into some green faggots n’ peas! ๐ The Daily Bugle indeed.
But no… that spectacular expression of modern mythology isn’t mine, although you’d be correct to suspect it. My work is a different kind of beautiful.
It’s like these things climb out of the plans, become real and transform from an idea into reality of their own accord. My hands operate of their own volition, and all I can do is admire the beauty, curves and elegance as a mechanical angel takes shape on my humble workbench. It will transform again when it takes to the air and becomes poetry in motion.
If it flies at all. If it doesn’t, then a couple hundred hours in the basement will be as nothing. But… my heart’s been broke before. I can take it.
It’s a different expression of that old nickel you’ve heard before. “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it’s yours. If it doesn’t…it never was…” so it goes for daughters and airplanes, I suppose.
It started getting dark at 5:00 pm yesterday. Snow has swirled, the lake had a skim of ice, and soon winter will be here. It’s coming up on time for us up here to seek beauty, light and warmth wherever we can find it as the desolation of winter closes in.
Time, at least, still flies.
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