As a child, you tested my will to breathe
dominoing your rippled bodies over my child eyes
The humans said they rescued me, yet I always knew it was you
who gave me a chance – a chance to trust.
Looking out at the ever-sweet dense fog –
my fingers numb
I recount the lessons
I am lulled by a freshening of your breath, of my breath
Amoungst the winds of the west
lie the rippled waves of my home tide
your’e bundled matter of molecules radiate comfort
miles and miles
stretched through time and space
A vantage point:
The old worn wood caressed into shape by your force
whittled down to smooth bones of stillness
Your forested ocean filled with ancestors
awaken my ming to the scattered time pieces…
pieces of mountains,
Foraging my neurons like
to be picked up and pondered upon,
Today we played with dandelions in class, what a rich medicine! it certainly has so much to offer! Try eating them , making elixirs, infusing oil and making into wine!
They can be harvested from spring to fall, such a giving plant with such elegance, sometimes it appears that they lay clusters of dining tables, enjoying the feast of life in your yard, what welcoming and comfortable medicine.
I really enjoyed tending to the harvesting of Dandelions, washing them and picking them apart was a task that got me feeling such spring euphoria, while munching on the sweet little surprise blossoms at the bottom of the leaves, yummy
This evening I got on the pottery wheel, I wanted to focus on Centering
I really enjoyed the quote from M.C. Richards inCentering on page 36 that finishes in talking about the space between two things, the interaction and reflection of the relationship between two by saying:
“It is a marriage of forces.”
When i approached the wheel I had in mind this quote and asked myself,
how can I recognize and work with this other force (the clay), how can we create a safe and harmonious relationship? I decided to approach it with some confidence but also with the care of how I would treat a delicate friend, gently.
I had in mind the letter A
a letter in which when the greek language started writing, the letter A was not a sound per say but a moment for a breath. What a beautiful thing that a letter represented breath. This idea of A’s being breaths directed to me thinking about spherical vessels, ones filled with breath and curve. This is what I attempted. The inhalation, the tension in the chest so beautiful.