Alexsondra: Bunches of Bowls for Gathering at the Well
These little gems just got pulled from my kiln. It’s been so many years since I last fired a glaze kiln, or produced any functional pottery, I was more than relieved to see that they all made it through the firing. It still amazes me, when I hold a finished bowl in my hands, remembering the hours past, when it was a simple lump of moist clay.
Each one has its own little personality as it stands on its own, waiting to be admired, touched, and lovingly used by its new owner.
They are mine, but not mine, much like our own children. We join with God in the creation process, always remembering that children are gifts. It is the same God, who generously infused me with the gift of making these bowls which soon, will no longer be mine.
When I was forty something, my mother took my hand in hers, stroking it gently. She said, “It’s amazing that I can still feel your hand as it was so many years ago, when you were just a baby.” It’s equally amazing that I remember the roadmap left in each of these bowls by those very same hands.
[Cross-posted from Mud of the Ages: Tempered Tantrums.]