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I enter the studio at dawn before the world awakens, and sit at the potter’s wheel. As the clay is spinning through my fingers I become an alchemist, turning soft earth into the treasured form of the bowl.
Throughout the day I traverse the interior landscape of my imagination, a place I call the field. From this rich, vivid setting I notice the characters I come across, some who will become personal archetypes that stay with me, offering insight and perspective greatly valued.
I notice what they are holding: a lantern, a fiddle, a map. Do they sit beside the bowl maker’s bon fire or do they walk with the other travelers within the great woods? Are they visiting mountain sheep’s cabin, reveling in deep rest, or are they standing at the edge of the wondrous, rolling sea, their being shimmering with delight and determination?
I notice what they are grateful for and I listen for any songs they may be singing.
Then, upon the curved walls of the bowl - that sweet, sloping blank page that I love so well - I gently record the images and words I have gathered and hear what they have to say, going deeper into the poem.
At night, upon a table made of wood, I place the bowl down, thankful for a day rich with stories. |
