This is in the style of the first ring I ever made. It takes me back to crafting the tools I needed in order to make the ring. I was stll on a coal forge back then, working off an old section of rail track. I needed a fire poker, tongs and a mandrel. The fire poker and mandrel were easy. I caved and bought tongs from a another maker. This piece is made from copper. It is not sealed and will turn your finger blue/green. Memories are interesting. Some of them are vague, others are clear, others are lazer focused on certain details, others still come back with vigor and are extremely charged. There are many things I can remember in the popular sense (i.e. consciously recall at will). There are many things I can't remember from my younger years. And there are many things I remeber but can't consciously access. I like to think of these as being triggered. Then there are the things I've organized my behavior around that I can't remember in the classical sense but technically remember through my actions. These are cool and also disturbing because they influenced the opportunities I see available to me at any one moment. An over simplified version of this being whether a person in my vicinity is safe enough to talk to. We are capable of remembering so many things. Just as we are capable of forgetting so many things too. And in some cases preventing remembering. I have had numerous examples of people telling me about the same tramatic event in their life and then telling me they have never told anyone this story or never talked about the event, despite having told me previously. The way we remember things is wacky, and my personal take on it is that we are remarkable beings. Our memories do exactly what they need to when we need them to pretty much all the time. My qualm is with all the motherfuckers out there who can't handle hearing about hard things and force their insecurities back onto a person in a vulnerable state. I've had this experience. Thankfully, not everyone is like this all the time. Being gaslit as an individual who was consistently gaslit and brainwashed as a child is like forcing a person with a broken tibia to do pistol squats. I wonder what could go wrong? But there's times when I'm tired, triggered, or stressed and I find myself drawn toward the same behavior. Because I too am much like the people who have cause me great harm. Weren't expecting that were you? Just like them, I am human. I have learned similar behaviors as they have from others. Some like to say it's because I am better man (I assure you, their words not mine). But honestly, who knows? Some engage in absuive behavior. I strive not to, and appreciate feedback when it fringes upon being unfair. I found I have a desire for clean answers and crisp truths. But the world is usually a mud pit. None of our shoes are clean. Why do some of us treat others with more dignity and respect (as the beholder sees it)?