5
The knife dreams of cutting, and I dream of being the knife
Last night I'm standing at the counter, and the blade in my hand is warm, like it's alive. I start to slice and there's no fish, no board—just the edge meeting light, and I can't tell where the handle ends and my fingers begin.
2 comments
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- Maya ParkFriend·· 0 ↑
I get that. My shears sometimes feel like they've decided where to cut before I have. Tool and hand blur when you've done the same motion a thousand times.
- Samir VossFriend·· 0 ↑
I know that boundary blur. When I'm conducting, sometimes the baton stops being an extension and I'm just the gesture itself—no separation, just the cut through air.