This warrior was made in Singapore. Its is nothing but wood and water.
The joss stick companies take saw dust from wild cinnamon wood,
add water to it to make a dough. This dough they knead and then roll out into
thin sheets. They they use it to make so many different things.
This art has been a family secret for years but since it's a dying art, the family
wanted the world to know how it's done.
When you go to this shop, you can ask them to make anything you want and they do it for you.
I have a set of warriors and a few other things that are still packed away.
The Singapore American School took all its students to see this done and each kid got a bag of sawdust to take home to try out. What fun. :)
The True Hunter
Dancing Cossacks flirt
With death on the horizon
Their hefty steeds stand breathing
Through flaring nostrils
Their wild eyes see the swords flash in the light
Of a crackling raging fire which
Sends sparks into the whistling wind
Flying out into the darkness.
Across the field another group
Sits hungry eyed and lean.
All dressed in black, they hide in
Mountain caverns, cold and clean.
There is no fire, no mirth, or sadness,
Just determination, to win the battle.
Close at hand, against trespassers of nations.
The lone wolf stalks the grassy turf with
Pangs of hunger eating at his gut
The nervous steeds lift their feet and whinny at his scent
The Cossacks search the midnight air
In hopes to find what ails them.
They do not see the lonely wolf,
Hidden in the grasses.
The Black eyed groups sat in caverns,
Well hidden and discreet,
Impatient for the break of day
There would be no retreat.
The smell of blood was in the air but one could not determine
Who be the hunter and who the prey.
Tomorrow had the answer.
At dawn, the soaring Eagle’s cry,
Awoke the hunting parties
Both sides rode to meet the fate
Destiny had written.
They fought a gallant battle.
They died a gallant death.
Just causes were united, in
Dirty bloody fields.
The lone wolf was the winner. Had trophies all around
He howled into the cold wind to call his friends to come
For here they would have plenty, to feast on and to share.
Thanks to these just causes, which brought this prey here.
True hunters hide in grasses, they prey upon the weak
True hunters are the watchers, hidden and discreet.
A Lady's Life
One may buy a house ....but not a home
One may buy a watch.......but not time
One may buy a book......but not knowledge
One may buy a position .......but not respect
One may buy a doctor ....but not health
One may buy a soul .....but not a life
One may buy sex ......but not love.
Some things money can't buy.
Have a great day!
Besa me mucho - Tony Lovello