and so, maybe: maybe metal hides some other way of Expression. Maybe: in seeing it move under the hammer blows, in colours that change at the heat of the fire; in the forcing of bends, or tips or blades inside it - or against it. In taking it out of the acid, matt - silvery. In polishing it with Love. In letting it standing out strong, and contrasting, against fabric and skin and hair: extending lines of force, pushing the beholder's eyes - or yours - deeper, Inside.
It's an Art by itself - even if "minor" and mistreated: and she needs affection. Yes - affection.
Hi!, I'm Davide. I try to be a metalsmith. My other vices was good prose, and is powerlifting.
Now scroll down, pliiz.

Mariposas, the day after:

and already there's no time, and it's all melting metals, drawing quotations, arranging shapes [non in this order]. But Barcelona was rainy and beautiful, and wonderful people were met, and contacts taken, and idea played in mind, and so on.
Exhibition's vernissage was somewhat uneasy, at the beginning, but then everything flowed. "Learning the Language - Rough Sketch #2" was there, behind the glass, in shadows of almost pink light.
Just some pics, then I have to-

1. Masters of Arts 2. the gallery appearence 3. me and Magister Philp Sajet 4. full of people

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