I work for a Mexican brick mason who grew up on a ranch in San Luis for his first eighteen years before coming to Texas.
One day he brought this knife to work.
He told me it's made from 'cuerno,' or horns of some animal, probably a deer or a ram.
I could feel a part of myself in this knife. I thought about the person who made it, how they must honor life and beauty.
Each part of the knife is essential to its unique character-- the notch for opening bottles, the hole in the end for hanging on a loop, the line of indentations that establish the presence of the spine. Each piece is perfectly fitted to the rough circumstances of the material.
I believe the person who made this knife to be attuned to a kind of perfection that most of us know not. It is not the mechanical perfection of identical parts; true perfection is rough, subtle, unassuming, and unimportant. Each part is formed perfectly to its place in the whole. Only then can we feel a part of ourselves within it.
