Claying the mold. This step sucks.

an edited version from RAW

Second layer of spot putty filling.

Rather than sanding (since it's a cold cast) the mold flash was trimmed with an exacto knife.

Empis species. I think.

Dagger (knife #2)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=bktBygTw65k

© Eric Lafforgue

www.ericlafforgue.com

TF-102A Delta Dagger 54-1366 at Pima

I tied the Clove & Dagger lanyard following the pattern shared by Facebook friend Dman Mcq. More info in my blog post: stormdrane.blogspot.com/2013/06/clove-dagger-lanyard.html

“There's daggers in men's smiles”

*William Shakespeare*

Assembly! Two halves were held together with plumber's putty.

Blank kit from the mold with flash cut off.

Filling in the edges with bondo gold.

omg he hates you so much.

.

Dagger of Flesh, by Richard S. Prather

Crest 142, 1956

Cover art by James Meese

Acacia siculiformis, shrub in woodland at Apsley Falls, New England Tablelands, NSW AU

my new swollen dagger tattoo i had done yesterday on the back of my arm! done by Nick at Tribal Urge. portsmouth england

The National Musuem in Athens is amazing. They've managed to bring together much of the best antiquities in the country, and some of what they have in simply stunning, this dagger being a serious case in point, figure in the background not withstanding.

Paintings by Myke Chambers

www.mykechambers.com

Better Enlarged-Exploding waves on a Pacific jetty...exploding in black and white.

A New Day

(James Watkins)

A new day begins-

earthbound-

ethereal-

flying around.

Unseen mists of morning-

open ocean green,

blue spouted spray queens-

in darkened emerald dreams.

Violent moodiness of

ancient ocean floors.

Standing silent-

stopped-

by solid sentinel gray doors.

Open your ears and

hear the ancient song-

for we are a breath-

a whisper-

and then gone.

Gray white clouds in

measured morning light,

stretch forth ghostly hands

to distant horizon heights.

Flowing sands,

rich soft pillows rising,

foam waters rolled –

Reflectioned sweet-

blessings stormy,

and daggered deep.

Footpaths fallen-

though carefully called-

lie brooding-

waiting-

silently enthralled.

Come, full- birthed,

appearing quickly

thing of ancient beauty-

aging stars of light-

bright brilliant singing,

resisting evil night.

Bring your watchers

high and steep-

strong on hidden walls,

soft from winters sleep-

unchained mystic music-

mighty opening keys-

darkened dormant dominions-

breath of living wings.

Blown now by fire,

frenzied furnace hot-

desperate with desire,

of beauty that is not.

Frozen mountain stars-

regal, reigning,

galaxies unfurled.

Swirling, dancing destinies-

on anxious alien worlds.

Future hope through

eyes that can not see-

guarded pathways of

mundaned revelry.

Massive mountain darkness,

night mystery and pearl,

deadly wicked wonders,

no heavenly theme

imperiled.

Dying dreams-

sprung to life-

soon escaped

from winters white.

Ephemeral future-

celestially veiled,

tossed and lifeless,

embattled and assailed.

Come forth now,

by seasons force,

to plans of old-

now lend your voice.

Creation sounds,

that groan and sway,

walking free forever-

with joy,

for one more,

glorious

day.

James Watkins 4/04