To Every Season

every season, turn, turn, turn

April seems to slip away so quickly.  It opens up from the seemingly endless possibilities that grow from winter's longing. My arms reach out, hands letting go of their opposing elbows, my face looks into the sun, feeling the heat, but blinded by the light!

[Snap!]

OH! OK, I may not be the poet I think I am, HA!

Am I the potter I think I am?

Teaching, traveling, and showing my work  in various locales over the past couple of month's has me looking at my clay endeavor with new eyes. Traveling opens the eyes and upon returning home, I gain new perspectives.

And so another session in my studio begins. This one for the 49th firing of my wood kiln. The scraps of of failed pots and the trimmings of others has been slaked down/pugged, ready to be resurrected/raised into new pots.

There is always SO much hope in this season of the year and in this part of the firing cycle.

Raw clay is nothing but potential, ready for shape, ready to shape.