An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

Long long ago  carved in rock  painted on leather  words of love  and protection  and revenge  a runic incantation charged with every bit of spiritual intention a declaration of thought this pagan poetry  still has a magic  every time the words  are read aloud by the living the bond is unbroken the curse is ongoing the weaver lives anew

language is  a funny thing different ways to express oneself an innocuous word in one is a grave insult  in another a whole way of  thinking  feeling  experiencing  it is an unspoken  agreement  among a group  of people  on what is important  and what is not  and the social rules  that govern them yours is not superior it's what you're used to.

Rune-carver with your knife and chisel and your magical words on the tip of your tongue stone and bone leather and wood a talisman of protection a sword that craves blood Your curses are not taken for granted. Each part of the formula is a part of the whole no bit is useless and no shortcuts will do. Each stave has a meaning. More than just an artisan you are a mage with the power of life and death in your god-laded spells.