More moving old FA submissions to Weasyl.

Before I changed jobs, I used to be a weaver. I worked at home, with a weaving loom set up in my room, and made throws and the like for my boss to turn around and sell in stores. One day, I got all pensive about the difference in permanence--I made somewhere around three of those things a week, exchanged them for money, paid bills with said money, and moved on, but whoever actually bought them would have them for years, possibly decades. I made "do I want to put in a row of white or a row of black here" type decisions several times a minute, to design something that the customer would have forever. I had to balance a sense of time pressure ("I need to get at least another two feet done before I go to bed tonight or I'll be hopelessly behind") with the very real possibility that some of these things will be mentioned in people's wills.

One day, I decided to get all artsy and I tried to take a photo to capture that sentiment. There's a line, and everything below it looks done, like it's always been there, but everything above it ... well, I should probably get back to work. (Again, this was before I changed jobs. I am not a weaver anymore.)