The Leviathon. A lesson in knowing when to stop.
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β¦. and I didnβt even cry (that much).
Sometime last summer, a client from Edinburgh brought me a beautiful ornate frame to restore. It had unfortunately been dropped and lost a significant amount of ornamentation from the lower section as well as the ropework around the outside. The drop (and age of the piece) had also resulted in some instability of the ornaments, which also had to be fixed and secured.
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So for the last couple of weeks, Iβve been doing something the same, but different. I have been restoring another pretty gigantic frame, but this time not in the comfort of my own workshop- surrounded by those I love and the equipment I am most likely to need at a moments notice.
Instead, I was down in Elie. Alright. Itβs hardly earthshattering- itβs just down the road, but when you need to pack your things for every eventuality; thatβs when you are sure to come up short on one of the eventualities.
Of course that eventuality could be meβ¦
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