something about the things that stay on the counter

the kit sat unopened for longer than I expected. then one night I just picked it up and started.

quiet. deliberate.

hand poke is slower than everything else about getting marked permanently, which is either nothing or everything. the needles are individually wrapped, the ink cups small and honest. nothing about it performs.

wooden applicator sticks sound boring. they are not boring. they are the thing you reach for when you want precision without committing to a tool that has to be cleaned.

I use them for wax. for pigment. for things I haven't figured out how to name yet. sterilized, individually wrapped, which matters more than most people say out loud.

I don't know. maybe it's not a beauty product exactly. but standing for hours in the wrong shoes started showing up on my face before it showed up anywhere else.

the arch support is soft, breathable, and does not make itself known once it's in. that's the whole point. the care underneath that no one sees is still care

something about nano composite resin just sitting on a counter in a small syringe looking like something from a lab you'd want to be in.

it's a restorative material, technically. but what it does is fill, repair, hold. photocuring means light sets it. which feels like a metaphor I don't want to overwrite