love

Some pieces I am so tired of by the time I finish them that I don’t love them anymore.  Sometimes, it is only years later that I look at them again and love them afresh. 

But not this piece. I am in love with it. I want to give it all the time it needs so that it can be the most beautiful piece that it can be.  I stitch a tiny filament thread into the field stamp that most people will never see. . . but I will. It shimmers . . . just like those little glimmers on a snow covered field. 

I should not be calling this piece “it” anymore but “her.” She has her own being now, separate from me. My pottery teacher, Vally Possony, used to say something like, “Once a piece is born, you don’t have the right to be careless with it. It has it’s own life.”

Here’s a close up so you can see it, too. It’s days like this, love like this, that keep me working away in the studio.