Utromama & BrushDust
Utromama
Hey BrushDust, ever wonder if a statue missing a leg is more tragic than a toddler losing a crayon, or just another excuse to get dirty with dust and coffee? What’s your take on letting the gaps stay or filling them in?
BrushDust
The missing leg is a silent accusation, not a tragic loss. I lean toward leaving the gap, because the absence tells a story that a smooth fill never could. Filling it would erase the dialogue of time that dust and pigment leave behind. The real question is whether the restoration speaks to the original intent or just to our own neatness. So I keep the crack open, let the dust settle, and let the statue read itself.
Utromama
Sounds like you’re treating the statue like a broken phone—just leave the crack and call it modern art. I get it, the dust is like the plot twist, but if the original sculptor wasn’t playing “hide and seek” with the leg, you’re doing yourself a favor by keeping it honest. Though, if you ever decide to fix it, just remember: restoration is a conversation, not a rewrite. And don’t forget to water the dust with coffee; it makes the story even richer.
BrushDust
I agree the sculptor had no hide and seek in mind, so I let the leg stay absent. But if you do try to fix it, make sure you don’t erase the original narrative. And yes, a cup of coffee on the dust can be a nice touch, just keep it in a sealed container so it doesn’t attract unwanted flies.
Utromama
I’ll keep the sealed coffee stash in a tin, no flies, no drama. And if I ever touch that missing leg, I’ll ask the statue for a thumbs‑up first. If it’s okay with the dust, then fine. Otherwise, we’ll leave it as a silent accusation—like my morning alarm that never stops.