on the windowsill.
I calculated the time I've spent away from the pottery wheel the other day. It's been close to a year now.
It's not that I don't want to be at the wheel, it's that a lot has happened since last year and when I sit at the wheel I find myself just staring at the clay mound going round and round. I guess the spinning wheel is just too hypnotic. There seem to be so many imaginary pieces of a vase strewn about the floor that I just can't seem to find the time or the energy to pick up but a few small pieces at a time. Clay has been the casualty in my life at the moment and I suppose I should call myself lucky that this was the only casualty. I still have a urning to paint small intricate details on 3" figures for hours. This creative desire has helped me accomplish much on my commission work. Hour after hour working a 1/4" spot has been so oddly soothing and addictive. Crazy, I know.
on the floor of the post office...
waiting for me.
Weird things happen when one starts picking up pieces of imaginary broken vases. Odd things that tell you you are not alone. A song will come on that reminds you of a loved one that has passed away or you start remembering things you long forgot. Im my case its been visual...I've been seeing hearts everywhere (I'll share them with you soon. I take a photo every time I see a heart.) This past week the visual image was a holy card. Someone obviously held this card dear. It must have been with it's previous owner for months, maybe years. I almost felt bad picking it up off the floor, but at that moment it dawned on me that whomever owned it before me was long gone and would probably understand that I needed it more now. Since finding it I feel a strong sense of calm as it has been gracing my workspace.
So, to whomever lost it, I promise...I will take very good care of it.
Thank you.
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