Moses was here.

Moses was here.  He left his cloak humbly asking me to do it great honor.

Walking into my studio some days can be a punishment.  There are shelves piled to the bricks with some amazing fabrics.  Jars stuffed to the brim with fabulous hardware.  The pull to create something with them is alluring.  A fear rises in me each time that I will fail and ruin the piece that had so much potential.  That or it will be spun into a admirable piece not to be desired by any living soul.   Much like my life it sits on the shelf wanting to be touched, to be molded into creation so beautiful that it never leaves the side of its heir.

 This is a poncho made so fine and heavy from Turkey or some place as genuine.  It is a thick weave of wool or llama / alpaca.  I waited all summer then Autumn, and let a winters pass with out touching it.  Will it into my hands.  It did not happen.  My patience was great.  Today the test begun again.

After fondling it for sometime.  Seeing the beauty it bestows my head bowed in regret.  I can not.  I am scared.

Rex came to me while it was happening.  Normally he is not allowed near the art that is.  Today I welcomed his pity.

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