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Before taking out a clean sheet of paper, I hold before the blue of the window a freshly-sharpened pencil pointing toward heaven and blow the imperceptible dust from the needle-tip before getting down to business. For in life’s long journey few things afford greater satisfaction than turning the crank and powering the cylindrical burrs of a mechanism which sharpens the dulled mind of a yellow number 2 pencil. In the silver pencil sharpener I witness the marriage of utility and beauty —a model for art and a purpose for life celebrated each morning before this small altar.
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The Altar
Before taking out a clean sheet of paper, I hold before the blue of the window a freshly-sharpened pencil pointing toward heaven and blow the imperceptible dust from the needle-tip before getting down to business. For in life’s long journey few things afford greater satisfaction than turning the crank and powering the cylindrical burrs of a mechanism which sharpens the dulled mind of a yellow number 2 pencil. In the silver pencil sharpener I witness the marriage of utility and beauty —a model for art and a purpose for life celebrated each morning before this small altar.
1953 - /American