My steps tend to be heavy and sluggish in the mornings (very un-sluglike, if you really think about it) and allow the floorboards a few expressive creaks, which I promise to pass on to their old friends. Out we go. I like to think that we’ve developed a routine, but it’s messier than that. Sniff, stroke, cradle and pat, always. Welcome reciprocation, whenever it’s forthcoming. Then there’s some time set aside to sway with the trees. I spread my branches, tell the small creatures wriggling and worming under my bark, that they are most welcome. We are one. Eat me up and ask for seconds. I try and fail to learn stillness, resistance and acceptance. I am beginning to think that they are not meant for me. But there have been some improvements to report. I’ve almost begun to witness the growing and blooming and fading with equal joy. Breathe in, breathe out. This is not an inventory, and I am not a product.
Handbuilt stoneware candleholder with a one-of-a-kind underglaze painting.
Dishwasher safe.
h: 19 cm
