Day 253 of Current Days: We were never meant to be tamed.
Today I am finishing up the fox skull.
As I do so I am thinking about teeth. About a very specific kind of teeth. Oh, Mads. The Devil must have hired the finest goldsmiths for you. They spent years polishing them. How much poorer the world would be without these teeth of yours.
I derive similar joy from looking at Ricky’s teeth. Perhaps his are even finer, but Mads makes far better use of his.
The fox teeth are in a sorry state, but that is a good sign. He is missing most of his front teeth, the only canine left is broken. The molars are heavily worn. I think he enjoyed life well before he fell.
As I think of him, the essence of this discovery becomes clear.
Wandering of Trees, analog photography, before 2012
silence