The ceramics pieces are out of the kiln. One of them, a cone-shaped whimsical piece, is now a shiny, yellow-ochre color. Another, a spherical little orb, now glows red-hot, like a coal pulled straight from a fire.
The magic of ceramics is the magic of transformation. Mud from the ground, pigments, and a handful of products engineered by chemists come together to make sculptures and pottery.
I’m entranced by it all, but I’m also weary. In the last day or so I caught a virus, so in between applying layers of glazes to my pots, I’m also wiping my nose and gulping down mug-fulls of tea. I’m also a it weary of being a beginner. Beginners can see many possibilities, but our efforts rarely turn out exactly as we’d hoped they would when we first began.
I’m going to bed and hoping that a new day brings new perspective.
Today’s thank you goes to my mom, who baked me cookies.