It was taken from the plant without much thought, one stem among many, cut clean and set aside with the rest of the day’s small tasks. For a while, it behaved as expected — softening, drying, holding its shape just long enough to be overlooked.At some point, it was chosen again. Not for what it had been, but for what it could hold. Suspended, stilled, and lowered into a bath that does not hurry, the surface began to change. A thin skin first, then a gathering. Copper finding edges, settling into the slight ridges of leaf and vein, following a structure that was already complete.It comes out heavier, but not entirely fixed. The curve of the stem remains, the leaves still slightly uneven where they grew that way. What was once green is now held in metal, not replaced but carried forward — a small act of keeping, shaped by time, solution, and patience.
