A Bowl

October 4, 2010

The pottery lady spotted me and waved. She’s grown used to me admiring her wares at the farmer’s market. Useful things: mugs and bowls and plates; colanders and casseroles and soap dishes—in subtle blues and greens and browns. Sage, touches of cobalt, hazel, black iris—thrown and drawn at the wheel, their thin walls belying their earthiness. Read the rest of this entry »

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