Copper glistens in deference to brilliant sunlight. It wires itself around our lives, brings ease and comfort, a combination of access and heat. Twin to the cook pot, seething atop a blue fire, transmitting a menu plan. Copper art hangs in the window, curled around like a serpent digesting amber glass balls that rearrange light on the wall.
Copper joy, copper light, copper theft for a price. Steal thirst for a century. Crush a society carved in the west out of nothing but a few battles with the locals. Copper makes friends. And enemies. A golden glow requires a good polish now and then. The favored color of an old mascot hat for the football team.
Dig. Mine. Discover. Bend. Shape. Create. A bottle of copper hair upon my head brings attention no matter what. Metal required to fend off compliments or long gazes with dangling open mouths. She is copper-colored, they say. Good or bad. Friend or foe. Better to be copper-colored than steel gray.
–Victoria Emmons, 2017