I get to imagine what Erin's finished pieces might look like if I were allowed to color them. An olive green came to mind with this one, and the word amphora, although it does not have handles. But, if I were in the ancient days when clay was all there was, there'd be no color at all, unless I were married to a wealthy merchant. Keep in mind these are my imaginings. But do note the strong wrists. Oh, my. What I wouldn't give . . .
I'd have filled in this crossword puzzle before it ever wound up as a mat for mud-made objet d'art. Then I wouldn't mind. White for the big mouth? Yes, white. A lovely stark white meant to make peonies pop; perhaps tulips? What do you see?
Last night she sent a video of a potter making a donut. The wheel is hypnotic. All that spinning flung inner gray energy to the far-and-away place where light comes from and dissipates anything opposite.
I've never worked a potter's wheel but nothing prevented me from improvising. And, still being in an Olympics state of mind made this little drawing that much more fun. Note the green on the olive oil jar? I get to have so much fun!
I wasn't sold on the highlighted text until now. Not the parts about Jeremiah; I meant the name and address. The parts excerpted from the book of Jeremiah seemed appropriate; worth reflecting on: This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: Go down to the potter's house, and there I will give you a message. So I went down to the potter's house . . .
. . . and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.
"Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hands . . ."
This is my coolest envelope to date.