The hands you layed on clayKickwheeld, curling,creamd to the lip of nothing,And coaxt to a white dancing heat that dayWill linger centuries in these towns and loamsAnd speak to men or beastsWhen Japanese and EnglishAre dead tongues.
from "The Firing" by Gary Snyder
These are my pots, glazed and fired. I especially love the tea set. It's glazed pale, glassy green and has a reed handle that my teacher's husband made.
The pottery class helped me brush up on my ceramics skills and rekindled my interest in working with clay. Luckily, I think I've found a way to make pottery on a more regular basis. My mind is reeling with possibilities; I'm eager to unite knitting and ceramics in some upcoming projects.