Most of my days I'm mighty happy painting whatever strikes my fancy. However, come autumn, the urge to tinker and construct takes hold of me. There is something special about this season that sets it apart from its three siblings. I reckon I'm not the only dapper dabbler that answers the craftin call. 'Suppose it has something to do with the holidays, but for me it's seems because nature is changing and just begging to be touched. It's mighty peculiar, as the outdoors shift due to resplendent decay and become more tactile, folks can't help themselves but put their hands to work! And that's a grand thing. Whether it's baking batches, welding wires or stitching stockings, cooking, cutting or crimping ... it's a fine day to touch & toil!
Each year to heed this call, I like to create a small batch of holiday ornaments. This years batch Iv' e named "The Whitman Collection". For the past few months Iv' e taken comfort in the 19th century poet's 1855 edition "Leaves of Grass". That fellow sure could write! It's astonishing when you meet someone that offers a voice to what you are feeling yourself, but are unable to construct in sentences. (I had to rewrite that sentence four times). And so to honor Walt (I feel wer' e on a first name basis) and the gift of his beautiful insight, I offer my own constructions in his name.
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