Thinking about eggs

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I was looking at books on a friend’s bookshelf ( there few things as enjoyable, I think) and there was a book of Russian fairy stories.  It opened to this page and I thought what a strange coincidence it was that I should have been reading about Faberge eggs and studying about them.  That sort of topic has a way of drawing one into history and society and art.  It is fascinating. The story has a reference to embroidery too. That is something that I liked to do when I was young and that I admire very much. The motifs once again reflect history or the way of like of people, or, if they are original, the personalities of those who made them. Now I like to hook rugs from my own design. I have neglected the piece I am working on now and I will start working on it again soon. People are afraid of trying to make art, I think. People are very busy with electronic devices too. I don’t mean to nag and harp and say that all sorts of crafts should be revived. New things come up. People like to experiment with cooking, for instance. They cook things from foreign cuisines and that is something that was never done before. That is a sort of art too. There, I strayed away from the idea of the eggs. There rally is something fascinating about the notion of an egg, after all.  The excitement of finding a nest with eggs in it is much greater than that of finding a flower, for instance.  In that egg is life, something totally new and fresh.  Just thinking about eggs.

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