Why Brass? The Brass Whale



Perhaps this post should have been my very first, an explanation of my blog’s namesake.

Of course, it wasn’t the first–but no less important.

The brass whale was there with me, when the time came to type in a title. Sitting next to my keyboard, with its silent, reflective grin charming me.

I stared at the whale for an undetermined amount of time, as I do when I think. I picked it up and studied its density.

I had a vision of my brass whale as a pub, with a weathered sign swinging out front. Inside, an imagination delight: dark heavy wood, brass lights and decor, deep booths to get lost in and dream near the sea. Travelers, locals, all content and charmed, chattering beneath the brass whale, anchored above the bar and grinning at all their stories.



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