Despite having created her, I know little about this sweet old lady except that she is a work in progress and is surprised and overjoyed to exist.
Chess Pawn, Bastille Day 2025
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Tag Archives: ceramic sculpture
Column O’Bird
Practicing chess piece stems grew tiresome,
So I did a glaring bird,
And then the bird
And the largest of the stems
Decided to mate.
I give it ten years at most
Because that’s what I give
Myself.
QxQB
Darling
said the King
the enemy is breaking through
and I am vulnerable
.
Sweetie
said the Queen
it is time for me to do what I must
give us a kiss
.
a kiss and she was off
and quickly felled after taking the Bishop
on the enemy’s Queen side
and her capture exposed the enemy’s flank
and the Queen’s Rook quickly moved to the seventh rank
and thanks to the brave Queen’s sacrifice
the enemy was defeated
but her King
was more vulnerable than ever
and devastated.
It Does Not Please Her To Exist
It does not please her to exist,
This Bird that I have made.
She glares at me with glaze-glared eye
And dreams of hells in which I fry
Because a sculpture cannot fly,
And I with ambulation blissed
Ensouled her shade in shade.
Cobalt, Vessels, Ætherfowl
When you want intense blue
Cobalt will do.
For white/miscellaneous
Go porcellaneous.
For a texture of nub
Try Crawling Glaze, Bub.
With motile non-sessiles
Do Handle your vessels.
And Showcased Absurdity?
Use Unreal Birdity.
noeyes
noeyes
“…as you stare into the vacuum/of his eyes…” Bob Dylan, “Like a Rolling Stone”
he is noeyed/nevertheless he is eyeing us all
judging
looking out at you and seeing foibles
waiting for another slip
and that is why he is there on my home screen
amongst stuff i often use
i made him to watch me/keep me mindful/let me know twin abysses abide/and every moment counts
i stare him down to prepare for a challenge
he wants to intimidate but hey
i can see right through him/so can you
Wabi and Sabi Squabble over Dabi
“Acceptance,” said Sabi, “is paramount.”
“Albinos,” said Wabi, “are weird.”
“You’ve weirdness yourself. Quite a fair amount.”
“You’re one to talk,” Weird Wabi sneered.
.
“Look. She’s got some eggs. Instant family!”
“Good point. I would be down with that.”
“Hey, Dabi, you’re IN,” Sab said hammily.
Thus ended the brief, perfect spat.
critter
i was a lump of clay
i am a flightless bird
i will be on display
now isn’t that absurd
.
to get the rapt attention of
supporters of the arts?
a pedestal’s detention, love,
confines and wilts and smarts.
.
the trouble is when i was made
my wright made me a soul
and now i’m frozen, senseless, stayed…
but Love
may make
me whole…
formation
cup, bird, bird, and mug await the fire,
a squadlet facing fate. alas, all will not survive. worse, it is the bird
with the eggs, the one on whom the highest hopes were pinned, that will suffer
decapitation.
irreparable.
.
the sculptor is philosophical. if i make another version of this one, it will be better.
then a sigh. it will not be as alive.
then a shrug. plenty of fish in the sea and on the plate. plenty of birds in the wind and in the clay.
there is a moment of silence. so long old pal.
****
Afterword: Grateful acknowledgment to Fannie Flagg, author of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café, for the last four words of the poem above.
Two from the Oven
Today at PIP Coffee and Clay these two items came from the bisque kiln. The one on the left is a closed vessel with a cut-out lid. I have given it to PIP’s barista and resident sculptor Nadia L as a wedding present. She married her sweetheart Daniel some weeks ago. “Glaze it any way you want,” I told her.
The form on the right, while avian, is not quite a bird. Look closely and you’ll see a host of weirdnesses, because in the joy of sculpting, adherence to reality went out the window.
I’m still here at PIP, enjoying sparkling mineral water and waiting for 1:30 PM, when my second 3-hour session begins. I feel the mojo, and have a lot to do!
One with Clay, Image and Text 