“The Workshop”

“At times, Skylar followed his father down to the sacred space and watched him as he worked. To the boy, this was a magical, manly place, silent except for the sound of tools at work, organized to the point of perfection, filled with the wholesome smells of sawdust, oil, and Elmer’s glue. It was a creator’s space, where a lone man could bring objects into existence, fashioned out of the merest raw elements. Here a soul experienced subsidence, sinking into the gnome-world of the earth-worker spirits, sinking down, down closer to the earthy core where the hot molten metals flowed, beneath the watery surface where the waves of womanly emotions pushed and pulled, in constant change, denying man a stable place to make his stand. Here the world could be measured and fit, with mathematical precision and engineering exactitude. Here the will ruled: decide to make a hole and the hole got made, join the pieces and the pieces stayed joined. For each problem there was a proper tool, ready to hand, and just right for the need. Upkeep guaranteed that these tools functioned as they had been designed to function like soldiers trained and ready for battle. Every instrument had its place and occupied it. Waste was promptly stored in the can meant for it and the lid was sealed. The workbench was an ordered world, under the control of its master, a place where tools did not suddenly change places or begin to cry or shout out their frustration that they were always required to perform the same function. They remained silent. They simply did their jobs.”