My dad’s welding mask. Never look at the sparks of light when Dad is welding. They will make you go blind, like looking at the sun. Of course, I would steal the odd look, how could you not!? It’s like a magic wand when you’re a kid!
I asked if I could watch the sparks fly with the mask on, at least once. I probably begged until he caved, as I am sure he was just trying to get the work done. This was the mask I remember. It was cracked and abandoned for a new one, but this is the one I imagine, when I see Dad at work.
I imagine him doing this work, 25 years at Alberni Engineering, for his family. He was proud of his job, but I hear him hating it too. When he talks about music, he lights up, giddy like a child. This is a mask he wore to make ends meet. To make money, to pay the mortgage. Sometimes he would make art too though, masks and butterflies and trees out of brass and scraps of metal. The mask is an altar to him and his work. I imagine I am inside his head, looking at his life, his family, the people and things he cared about. I see myself in there. I see you too, as now you have stepped into our world and become a part of our lives by partaking in this work. Thank you for coming. Thanks for seeing me, for “I am the art” (thanks, Lisa Joan for the quote).
PS. I gifted this to my brother for his 50th Birthday.
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