I’m an addict. I am addicted to coming home smelling like burnt metal and singed cotton. I’m addicted to the smell of burning steel and Flux. I live for that tiny moment between when the hood falls and the arc strikes. I’m addicted to that little pool of molten metal and that sound. Oh that sound of the arc, the sizzle of hot steel vaporizing water. I’m addicted to the absolute silence and stillness of the process. The feeling that the only things in existence are you and the arc. I’m afraid that yes I am an addict. I am a steel addict and I am a welder.