Wednesday, April 24, 2013
I’m working away at my jewellers bench, lost in thought, thinking of what I’m going to do when this pendant is finished. How great we humans are, we can perform the most intricate of operations and our mind can be somewhere else entirely.
Tiny silver particals float down over my jeans and onto the floor. I’d already hammered this round bar of silver to make it really thin at one end and now I was filing it smooth. Some aspects of manual work can look tedious to the onlooker but to the person performing the ritual, it can be as theraputic and soothing as meditating.
Goowd Affternoooooooon, I looked up and nearly filed my finger off. Who the fuck said that? What are they doing here in my workshop? Can’t they see I’m lost in thought? Who has had the audacity to come into my world?
It’s like being asleep and suddenly awoken, we don’t appreciate it, we should be allowed to waken slowly, one eye at a time.
I look across the floor and there already halfway across the studio floor is a small white pygmy of a woman. She looks like she’s around seventy and is wearing a wide white brimed hat, the sort that English ladies wore two centuries ago in outer India. Her head is barely visible beneath the tent she is wearing as a hat. I look at her and wonder how she made it through the door.
At the door is another, a larger white pygmy. She is holding the lead of a dog and at the end of the lead is an earwig. Bits of hair sticking out everywhere, I can’t tell where its head is.
The larger white pygmy asks me if she may bring her earwig in with her. I say, You can of course, as long as he doesn’t leave anything behind him when he leaves. Oh no, he’s very well behaved. She took one step in and I continued, ‘Cause if he does, I’ll chop him up into little pieces!
The one step she took in, she promptly took back out, saying in horror, Chop him into little pieces?