Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Nirvana came suddenly
this morning when my breakfast sizzled
rings of Saturn formed
hands and fingers of my potter’s wheel,

”Clay….it’s all about the clay!” you say.

I hold myself up to the light,
find I am broken inside.

2010

Sad poem.

the translucent fragility gives us away........tight....

ah, but the finding!
wonderful piece