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Last night we attended the opening of an art exhibit at a local gallery.  The location is a center for a group of artists who work in clay.  It is their workshop, classroom, and kiln as well as their exhibit space.  One of the artists is a friend of ours.

I was excited when we were invited.  All my adult life I have read about people attending these sorts of evenings; but this was my first invitation.  I am pleased to say that I was not disappointed.

I have absolutely no skill with my hands.  I was born with a tenuous connection between hand and eye; but that short-coming has left me with a deep sense of awe at those who can make beautiful things.  The artists whose work was on display did just that.  The large room was a feast of color and shape.  I walked through the space and smiled and sighed.  I had to resist the urge to pick things up; to feel them as well as see them.

The subjects were varied; as varied as the artists themselves, still, I saw one theme.  Everywhere I looked there were birds; birds sitting, birds flying, birds’ nests, bird houses, birds perched on the backs of other animals.  It was as if the artists were trying to transform the clay into air.

Clay is a wonderful material.  It comes out of the earth and has the weight of the earth; and yet, skilled hands can fill it with life.

I came away with these words running through my head.

Clay Bird

The form
the dream
to live as
a bird lives
upon air

The heavy earth
the glossy glaze
yearn to assume
the delicate
the inner glow
of life

To become

to suggest
hollow bones
vivid feathers


2 Responses

  1. A beautiful image that flies in my imagination. Thank you.

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