Author David Vann
Corrected first paragraph for A Mile Down (typesetter deleted a line in first printing)
  There's more art in this world than we think.  The art of welding, for instance.  In the faint green
light through the welding mask, the electrode in my right hand sends a funnel of energy shielded
by inert gas, a miniature environment of purity, without the contamination of oxygen.  At the melting
point, the surfaces of the two aluminum plates form a molten crescent moon.  With my left hand, I
tap the end of an aluminum rod into the center of this moon and a new crescent instantly forms.  
Superheated, it sucks up into the sides of the plates and tugs at their edges, creating two small
rivers and this vortex where I tap again, forming the newest moon.  It’s as beautiful as writing or
love or anything else in this world, and it surprises me.  I had imagined welding to be a brute task
and nothing more.  
  The afterlife of ruin had seemed brutish, also.  Sleepless nights, a general aching, and disbelief.  
But there were no recriminations from my wife or her family, and they gave me the room and
support to recover, until new dreams arose and opportunities presented themselves.  I’ve come to
realize that a life can be like a work of art, constantly melted away and reshaped.  This story is of
that melting away.