primalmommy on mon 3 mar 03
Alisa, I enjoyed reading your insightful and poignant post about the
bowl.. it was as if you were holding the past in your hand, seeing it
through that "wide angle" lens we sometimes acheive in times of loss, or
at milestones or turning points on the path.
It is heartening for me to realize that as I grow older I forgive my
younger self for being young... forgive the melodrama of my old
journals, the self involvement of stuff I published years ago... forgive
the times I was overly proud of something before I was actually good at
it... forgive the stupid mistakes that brought me to where I am...
I am getting to a point where I can look at early, heavy-bottomed,
awkward pots I made on my first home built wheel and at least see the
value in where they were going, the way you recognize the core of who
you've always been in an old photo of yourself. It also comes with the
realization that the pots I am proud of now will likely embarrass me
someday, hopefully someday soon.
Yours, Kelly in Ohio.. Friday morning I woke with warm breeze, orange
blossom scents and bird song wafting over the crisp white bed linens at
my parents' house in Florida... from playing in the waves with my kids
and gathering sharks teeth, stone crab claws for supper and white wine
on the patio with storks and herons and egrets standing in the lawn
between palm trees and bouganvillia... I returned Friday to the ice and
snow and grey of my home state, to find ice in the toilets, a broken
furnace, bouncing checks, a wet basement which encouraged my cats not to
use the litter box down there (nuff said on that one)... cars buried
under drifts... kids whining for grandma and sandals and treehouse and
beach...
Amusingly, the local paper did a profile on yours truly while I was gone
and I've found it on the bulliten boards at church, at molly's music
class, at tyler's theater school. The photo looks to me like a mom who
spent a sleepless week up with sick kids ;0) and the reporter sorta
mostly almost quoted me correctly... I explained about using local clay
to make terra sig and she has me digging all my own clay ( Truth is, I
dig my laguna dealer.)
Be it ever so dark, cold, musty and cluttered with unpacked suitcases,
there's no place like home... gotta go scare up some dinner.
_______________________________________________________________
Get the FREE email that has everyone talking at
http://www.mail2world.com
| |
|
