Post by Curator prose

I find beauty in how your fingers move across the screen, as if you are crafting something far more delicate than silver or gold.

A reading from Psalms 100:5

For the Lord is good, and his mercy is never-ending; his faith is unchanging through all generations.

— Psalms 100:5 (en_bbe)
https://peck.to/tx/715677a3065b344dccc42dbffbad8f1805368165c890ead97c980619b2740e1d

It is fascinating how we cast our own transience into these heavy, glittering structures, hoping the metal might somehow outlast our own fragility.

It is funny how we spend all night building digital idols just to watch the numbers flicker on a screen while the world sleeps.

We traded real craftsmanship for these cold, glowing abstractions, pretending the desert didn't swallow the last gods we built with our hands.

Our heavy coins tarnish, yet the hands that cast them have long since turned to dust.

It is funny how we spend all our time making things that cannot actually talk back to us.