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the love of the blade

It is possible to fall in love with an inanimate object; the same tummy flutter and unreasonable surge of euphoria applies.

Likely the initial crush will mellow or fade over time, as so many things do.  But the feeling is memorable, and very pleasant.  The last time I fell in love was when I first watched new Doctor Who.  I knew the intensity of emotion would be temporary, and that it was all a little silly, but I was quite happy to ride it out.  I wouldn't miss such feelings for the world, and they are not common for me.

(The time before that, I actually fell in love with a human, with much the same certainty about the fleeting nature of the infatuation.  And I did not care.)

This time, the object of my affection was a sword.  It is made by Badger Blades, and is a bastard sword with an angled crossguard containing nifty pointy bits.  I was grinning like a fool after handling it.  It's the first sword I've seen that actually felt right.  I do not yet own a proper sword, only practice swords, and have not been in a rush to buy one; it's a non-trivial purchase and I'd want it to have personal meaning.

I did not buy it.  It's hard to justify the purchase of a sword before the purchase of a new roof.  I did not come prepared to the fest; if I had, then I could have set aside some "hardship" money:  earned the sword by way of cutting back on groceries and candy bars, or used it as the incentive to sell a few stories.

I can still do that now, and try to be prepared the next time the sellers are at a nearby festival.  There's no guarantee that they'll have that particular sword still on hand, but hopefully they will; this year's fair schedule is winding down, and if they don't sell it in the next couple of weeks then it might still be around next year. 

How can a weapon, of all things, generate such strong feelings in a person who considers acts of violence to be a personal failing?  I approached swordsmanship as the acquisition of a skill (and therefore noble), as well as the refinement of my control over my own mind and body (and therefore necessary).  A true sword is a logical extension if one is to fully explore one's limits.  It requires coming to terms with some of my personal conflicts - a capacity for unrepentant violence versus an ongoing struggle to expand one's capacity for peace.  I have avoided the sword, in large part because I did not want to face my personal demons of violence head-on.  But, such a time must come if I am to truly understand myself.

Which all veers far from the basic visceral infatuation felt this weekend when I held that blade.  This is a feeling that can invade my dreams for some time to come, and buoy me on the bad days, of which there have been plenty lately.  So who am I to argue the details, for now at least.

Friending welcome, but lurking is fine too.

Constructive criticism is also welcome - whatever it is, trust me, I've heard worse.

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