Miner's silver Ghost

Well my friends i've been a little busy since New Year begin because i had a lot of interesting custom orders that i also share with you.
I will post every journal, in chronological order.
So this is one of the first journals made since my last post on this blog.
This is an exquisite journal, made for those who can appreciate it.
The story of journal:
The story of journal is based on a song with same name singed by Merle Haggard, I suggest you to listen it in time of watching on pictures, you will understand all: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uR75CFVCaNA

Now, about my nostalgic connection with it:
My both parents were employees on railways. My father being station chief on a small station near the border with Hungary, we lived in an apartment above the station so all my early childhood I've spent on the station platform. My playground was the railway station and my fellows were employees of the  station, train engineers, customs workers, border soldiers and local post policemen. At that time steam locomotives were still in use, especially for maneuvers on the first line. Playing in them steam was my favorite. There is not another safer place for a child than in a small railway station where everyone are like a family. I'd spent most of my time with workers, eating them meal and listening them stories and songs, all of them were my babysitters. My mother didn't had to worry where I was because a hundred eyes watched me, everywhere I was on good care. From that time I developed a big affinity for the common workers, they where my worm friends, I was never lost or hungry between them. For keeping me safe they invented a lot of ghost stories about the steam of locomotives or about the light of signals, like it was the eye of devil watching me... those stories was told to me to prevent my accidentally walk between the lines when a train has to come and worked very good. I even graduate railways highschool where I've made two years practice on repairing carriages..
After years, as student, because I was son of railroad workers I had free rides with trains. Because my father was station chief I had first class ride, but I always preferred second class. I often used to go in the station and wait for the next train, jump in it and travel for unknown destinations. I met many kind of people in the trains, it was a pleasure to listen them stories. When I considered that I just had enough I used to jump of in next station and wait for return train in station bar. There I met a lot of different people too. It is so easy and natural to talk with strangers in a station bar, especially in the night time. I still feel that the safety ground for me is railways stations or inside the trains and I think that this will never change. Maybe that's why in my soul I still remain an vagabond.
This journal is a tribute for all railroads employees and for unknown passengers.

This is what came out:

Until next time...i wish you all the best!

D.