a place to witness the growth and decay of ideas

# pinterest-board

‧₊˚𖤣 𖥧‧₊⚘ ❀༉˚.

❀ resources for metalsmiths

/ wax carvers

/ metal smith society

/ andrew berry youtube

/ the art of metalsmithing youtube

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯

ᴀ ꜱᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏꜱ

 

𐃘 a poem about pressure

grindset

My dentist told me I've been grinding too hard
putting my teeth under too much pressure
that they'll crack and crumble and I'll be left one day with a mouthful of rubble
But if I grit hard enough and with enough force
maybe they'll turn into diamonds
and I could flog them off to whoever bids highest
A geological marvel with a mouthful of sparkle
borne from the pressure I put on myself
Erode the edges of enamel as ridges crash over each other making the most disgusting sound
Not that I would know
I'm asleep through this clash of bones
but in my dreams I am pulling at my jaw trying desperately to stop the fracture from starting in my tooth
cracking all the way up and splitting me in two
So I wake up
just as the pressure gets too much
instead of diamonds they turn to dust

𐃘 some words on loss

𖦹

You were in such a hurry
and maybe making a leap of faith was the most reasonable thing to do
Choosing for yourself than the world choosing for you
Your poetry and my protest downstream from each other but nothing I could say would add a thing
This feeling is all I'll ever have
I've tried to explain it with logic but when has that ever made sense
I feel her beating when I hold a hand up to my chest

# mini portfolio

𐃘 lessons from a gardener

𖥧

This garden will grow without me
They know the earth deeper than I and if conditions I provide aren't suitable they won't thrive
And that's ok
Not everything I water will grow
and not every seed I'll sow
I should give space to let things happen at their own pace for I am not their god and sometimes wanting just isn't enough
Perhaps I could let things grow wild and allow chaos to enter
Release this violent attachment to the things of life and embrace simply being
passionately being
This garden will grow without me
but still I come to tend
I can't help myself
I'll search in the soil
Through the brambles and cleavers
I'll pull the spurge but leave the willow herb because it's sweet
What am I looking for?
To find god in the compost heap?
This garden will grow without me
and from that wilderness will come a balance and I will realise that this is how it's meant to be