amongst my busy days at the momentmaking thousands of quote tags and ornaments
i still find time to make work that is also dear to me...
my poetry bowls...
my studio seems to float into every room of my home
(and on to many a surface)
my coffee table yesterday afternoon for example
was full of these unfired and sponged back pieces of my heart...
i love clay in all its stages, but at this point i feel very connected to it
maybe because it is raw, honest, and fragile
kind of like my poetry (and maybe a bit like me too)
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