Christ with Grease on Her HandsFeatured

There was a halo once, or maybe just the sun caught behind her head at the right moment, like the world forgetting what it had decided she was. She didn’t correct it. Somewhere, they are still painting her clean, untouched, hands open to the sky. But I remember the weight of her work, the quiet of her presence, the way she stayed when things fell apart. If there is a gospel, it lives there, in the grease, in the grit, in the unseen fixing of what keeps us going. And if there is a Christ, I think she looks something like this.

Chain

TEZOS

Network

Tezos

Contract

KT1UewjKndwe7vTEn5S1KVD7G1n9q9g8kCKQ

Token ID

11