Poetry
I could watch this all day long. Masterful:
More here.
I remember watching my father and grandfather work in my father's shop. Provided they were out of each other's way, they got into a groove measuring, cutting and assembling. It was almost a dance. They would make brief false moves before the actual move. They would size up wood and blow the sawdust off with a certain flair. You see that in the video above. There is a feel to good work. Masters know it because they have done it over and over again a thousand times. I don't care the task. I've seen people do the same thing with spreadsheets and desktop publishing and conversation. Practice, practice, practice. It is poetry in motion.
I now want an ironing table.
Thanks, Carpe Diem.
More here.
I remember watching my father and grandfather work in my father's shop. Provided they were out of each other's way, they got into a groove measuring, cutting and assembling. It was almost a dance. They would make brief false moves before the actual move. They would size up wood and blow the sawdust off with a certain flair. You see that in the video above. There is a feel to good work. Masters know it because they have done it over and over again a thousand times. I don't care the task. I've seen people do the same thing with spreadsheets and desktop publishing and conversation. Practice, practice, practice. It is poetry in motion.
I now want an ironing table.
Thanks, Carpe Diem.
After years of flailing on an ironing board, I now know that I've been operating with a distinct disadvantage. If I get the ironing table, all excuses fade...and I am left with the cold reality of limited ironing skills.
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I've ironed my own shirts (again) for the past couple of years. I've come to enjoy it. I need to check into the ironing table, though. The fellow in the video smokes me. I think it is the table.
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