Arc

Out into the light the spots were black popping here and there.

I lifted my mask and got that ring around the head feeling. My hair pulled from the strap and I kept adjusting it while scratching my scalp. I felt fun, dirty, dangerous and neato.

Sparks ordinarily flew to the floor where the oil puddles had congealed long ago and were next to impossible to suck up. Sawdust or cat litter maybe would do the trick, and then I could figure out the way to lift up that poison. Solvent would evaporate in the saw chips so I would throw it in there any chance I had. Into a large metal trash container that in the middle of winter doubled as a fire pit.

As I practiced the lines I took extra care to slow down which is hard for me ‘cuz I seem to like to go quickly especially when I am excited. You see, I have a lot of energy and it needs to be channeled into lines or fillets, not the fish but the shape. Like I was taught, I went back 5 times over it. I mean I kept checking my work and even though it was tedium all I could think of was titanium.

welding-mask-gloves-anystockphoto.com

Watching Tom pick up and weld without effort was like magic for me. I marveled at how all the guys were so comfortable with their tools. I had a slim hope that one day I would be too, not afraid of the arc or the spark and no longer silly about the heat. Gone were the days of being afraid to light the barbecue. Now I was lighting bigger and better things and it was a groovy feeling.

Once I knew a man who had the strength of patience like the steel he welded. He was a kind of master at slowing down. He worked with razors to perfect a surface he was capable of creating a flawless sheen. He worked alone and he liked it that way. He was able to sand like no one else and clear coat a finish to its end. He was very good at his trade, I told him so and then he felt happy and went home.

It’s been a little while now and I’m happy wondering if this is going to take me to fantastic places like public art or building scaffolding as high as the CN Tower! Imagination is good for soaring and at the arc of my inspiration the sound of the fire and heat met my desire and I danced, it was sweet.

On the flip side of it I figure I am a fool for such things. I will have to take every precaution to be safe and the only way I want to learn this trade is school. The shop guys will give me tips I wouldn’t learn in school but all the other stuff will have to be learned there. I beg myself to ask the question: why would you want to risk so much?

As I pondered my fate in this environ I took stock of the needed considerations, and let me tell you there are many. Upside and down the other side, I guess I was doomed to writing all the pros and cons +’s and -‘s on a long sheet of paper.

So I began. Wishing I had the patience of the man I once knew I took off my mask and walked out into the light and it was there that I decided who and what I would become.

Thanks to Hawksley Workman for ‘arc of my inspiration’
Advertisements

One Response to “Arc”

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: