Giving the Game Away

I have prided myself in being the most secretive public person: hiding in full view. There is a thrill to this. But it is childish, maybe even ridiculous and certainly affected.

I am going into a period of uncertainty and search. My kiln is not working, my hours of work are erratic, I am avoiding myself. But when I get into the clay I really produce and the ideas stream and knock each other down: being a little out of control works for me in the end, but it is disconcerting.

I think about becoming...emerging from the waters...maybe eventually taking a deep breath and not feel the squeezy hurt...

A particularly vulnerable child experiences a series of shocks which he/she is not equipped to cope with. I am not yet born, and yet the enclosing, enfolding, moist, nurturing cavern ruptures and the harsh rasping dry world rushes in, right in, inside the little body of the newly emerged baby. What can that be like to endure?

And again, I am not yet born; the thoughts that make sense of pain and uncertainty have not yet coalesced into the symbols of word strings. I am not yet born to the reality or the understanding of what is it like to be here, to be me. I am yet to become what I will be tomorrow.

As I grow out of the turbulence and foam of a raging sea, I strain upwards and stretch myself to breaking point, trying to achieve the height and freedom of the upper air. Ragged, the clothing of old events slides off me and plunges below; Now only truth and simple being can touch my skin.

There is transformation and it goes on every day and forever, as far as the mind can discern.

Loneliness

"Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."

Working in a group is not an option for me. I am able to work with one other person about, but even then I create when alone and manufacture when in company. In a group I am paralysed and dispersed.

And yet, in isolation I feel cut off and starved of the oxygen of comment, encouragement and the possibility to look at my work through cold outer perspective, rather than the inner eye of emotion.

Networking makes it possible to spread out the work for others to see, in shows, in festivals, in the marketplace.

So company has to be mediated so that one-to-one dialogue can take place but the invasion of the senses by too much presence is avoided.

I get used to it, but long for the perfect world...

The Braided Heads

Braiding is a painful and lengthy process. Both victim and perpetrator invest time and perseverance in a repetitive task of which the result are tired fingers, a sore scalp, numb limbs from holding difficult positions for hours.
Braiding happens in a shady and quiet space, perhaps outdorrs, perhaps by a large window; the simpler the abode the more blurred the distinction.
All around, the heat and dry dust settle slowly; there is a deep silence permeating any sounds that occur.
Women wait for their life to unroll before them, commanded by others. They braid in the meantime, hoping and waiting.
There is no hint of resignation here, because there is no alternative possible.
Braiding in clay is similarly linear and serene. We may laugh and tell jokes, but the quiet remains and there is no underlying tale to tell. This is just life as it is and has to be.
Within the deep shadow inside a thatched hut, perched at the rim of the dunes piled high above the roiling sea, a woman and a young girl sit on their heels. Little hissing sounds escape now and again, audible above the restless waves' sighing, lapping, shimmering.
The morning wears on, the heat trembles on the horizon. A breeze clatters among the coconut fronds. By early afternoon, a head covered in small curvy forms, worming back and down, each finished by a colourful bead, shakes and emerges into the blinding sun: there is a feeling of soreness and joy mingled and a look of expectant pride. A young woman ready for the feast.
In clay, all of the sounds and light are blurred in a blunted edge. Within the figure, are the hollows and worried pains, encased in happiness and eagerness. A drowning in sand.