The Potter's Vessel Is Creation In Action

Created by hand, finished by fire

Creation is a porcelain thing

Made by hand. A spinning disk. Tools of the trade. Inventions invented to make the hands more able. Smooth. Symmetry in motion.

The yin clay is cold, yang friction turns the wheel. Soggy lumps of clay fall to the floor, not meant to be useful now, but later, perhaps. A future fractal.

Are you are the dross that splashes back into the slurry, the learning curve, to reemerge later, in beauty? Are you clay or hand? Or both?

Yin and yang shaped you as your walls increased in height and decreased in thickness. From lump to form. Utility and beauty.

She closes Her hand around your soft clay body. She pushes down on you to open the mouth of the vessel. Reaching inside, she pushes out while pulling up.

Torque

Yin plus Yang, always in accord. They are a process.

Shaped from blueprint impulses. A wire cuts you away from your rooted center on the wheel. They lift you to the drying shelf.

He, with his spark. She with her hand.

Yang air removes excess yin water from your delicate clay body. 

Clay pot dries. Greenware. Delicate. It melts. And must be leather hard to fire. Dry as a bone or it will explode. Yin moisture be gone!

Lest you explode. Moisture danger!

A first fire, to make you porous and stronger yet.... absorbent.

Glaze is the promise of color, of texture. Will it shine? Will it crack?

How can this wet chalk deliver beauty?

Paint, dip, decorate, score. The maiden’s hand at work.

Skill 

A Second Fire, hotter, to make you Impervious. 

Now, the fine vessel. You shine. You have purpose.

Emptiness to be filled.

Never alone. If the wine is absent, there is air. Always the air within.

Never Alone! Made. Purposed.

The Two made you , into The One. That makes Three.

The Space, The Act, The Thing

Together, we are Three.

Together, creation made, imprinted, emergent, fulfilled, molded, formed and then destroyed.

Pottery happens.

A vase, decorated as purple feathers with eyes.

Holding.

Supporting.

Containing.

No judgement.

Now, my purpose is typing around a Siamese cat.

Purring on my lap.

You?