Monday, February 18, 2013

Wanderings and Wonderings

....your eyes widen from south to south,
your smile goes east and west;
 your feet can hardly be seen

and the sun takes pleasure
in dawning your hair.


Your face and body come from
hard places, as I do,


from rain washed rituals,
ancient lands and martyrs.

The Bio-Bio still sings in our bloodstained clay,
but brought from the forest
every secret scent,
and the way your profile has of shining
like a lost arrow,
an old warrior's medal......

Pablo Neruda
Autumn Testament 

Landscape.  That is where I have lived for the last several weeks.  Inside a landscape of wanderings and wonderings.*   (*A word that spell checker refuses to recognize, although I am sure it would recognize wax and poetic.)  Cultural landscapes. Geographical landscapes. Literary landscapes.  The list goes on.

And finally back to the figurative landscape.  How does a doll-like whimsical figure begin to interpret a sense of place? Where does it start?  And where does it ends?  How does a figure with a totemic quality symbolizes a sense of home and connection?

My words were hibernating.  I think I had a little frost-bite, too.  The only way to warm up was to go and wedge some clay.  And that was and still is the way for me to wake up, thaw out and get some work done.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Trimmings of Love and Ceramics

waiting for some blooming sticks
Around here we don't wait for fancy flowers on Valentine's. We trim the plum trees.  We trim the Rose of Sharon bush.  The bare branches are plunged into water and heavy bottomed vases.  We wait for the magic.  For days.  And then it happens. Tiny pink blossoms on spare gray sticks.  Bits of green promises on trimmings looking ragged from winter.   It makes your heart say once upon a time and happily ever after.  But, of course, a little chocolate wouldn't hurt...

nest of dried mistletoe

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