Denman Island, Canada
I know that this is going to sound weird but when I pick up a piece of soft porcelain, it begins to sing its song to me.
Unlike a human song, which appears on a horizontal plane and is composed of high vibrating sonics and moves from beginning to end, the clay’s song begins with its core and moves out into the space adding layer upon layer of slower vibrating matter until it has configured itself into a form.
The clay plays me like a composer playing a piano, the song of the clay uses me to preform its form.
It sings through my bones at me and I try to keep up to its demands with technique and innovation but I never know what’s coming next.
I guess that that is the fun of it.
LIKE BONE CHINA
FRAGILE AND TRANSLUCENT
IS A BOWL
MOULDED OF SPITTLE AND DUST
TATTOOED WITH SPARKS AND DREAMS
REACHING THROUGH THE MUD
FOR THE LIGHT
I AM FIRED TOO HOT TO FLY
LIKE ICARUS FALLING
WAXEN WINGS SHED
A SPIRALING WORN GLOVE OR AN OLD SHOE
MY BONES WILL BE ALL THAT’S LEFT
INTO THE EARTH
AND FOLDED IN
SHE WILL GIFT THEM OUT
TO RISE UP AGAIN