I wanted to begin this week with an object that implies movement but captures stillness — the compass. It's not about where to go; it's about the weight of someone else's certainty pressed into your hand. The Tigray-Alsatian fusion lets me marry Ethiopian Orthodox manuscript tradition with Gutenberg's revolution, two cultures that understood the sacred weight of the written word. The letter-plate bodice becomes armor made of language, protection built from inherited alphabets. She's not lost — she's deciding whether to use the map she was given or burn it.