featheryOne
Posts: 38
Joined: 6/8/2004
Status: offline
|
The Potter
The Potter , a master of his trade, picks up a piece of lumpy clay from the tightly sealed canister, where it had sat waiting for him to become his creation.
He slowly kneads the clay gently upon the table before him. In his mind he envisions a drinking vessel which he plans to keep on the dining room table for show and personal use. He continues to slowly knead clay, working out bubbles, making its texture smooth beneath his palm.
When satisfied with this initial preparation he moves himself to the Potter’s Wheel and lays the clay in the center of the table. He the clay becomes the center of his attention. He envisions in his mind only this piece of clay he has chosen to use to make one of his finest creations ever.
He wets his hands in the trough beside him and gently moistens the clay. Not too much, for the clay would turn to mud. Not too little, for it would dry much too fast to throw upon the wheel. He uses exactly the right amount, which he learned from training and experiences of his past. This past knowledge he uses wisely today, for he wishes nothing but the finest creation to stand before him.
The wheel spins swiftly and his fingers gently caress the clay. Fingers deftly fall upon the clay, first the center is created. Exact. Precise. He then plunges his thumbs downward and stops when it reaches the foundation of the base. Pulling the clay gently as its sides and base are formed. The correct thickness of the base is of utmost importance. If too thick it may not survive the firing. If too thin it may not endure the daily use he intends for it.
Slowly, the walls of the creation take shape, slowly rising beneath his touch. A dab of water used when needed, so the clay will stay moist and pliable. He watches intently, making sure the sides remain the same width as he gently pulls the clay upward before him. Even and smooth the vessel begins to stand.
Up and up, slowly, gently the clay is pulled and smoothed, to its neck. Here, lies his greatest challenge ~ the delicate neck. The clay is carefully pulled inward and his eyes intently watch to be sure it is not misshapen. His great skill is shown here, for neck would show obvious misjudgment. A smile plays upon his lips as he sees the graceful neck take form. A dab of water is added and his fingers rise to the top edge.
The wheel stops spinning. With moistened fingers he swiftly molds the pouring spout. He finds the clay with which to shape the handle, shapes it, and skillfully attaches it to the vessel.
He sits back and looks at the creation before him. Precisely what he had envisioned in his mind. He is pleased. He checks for any flaws there may be, an air bubble or weakness of the walls. Of course, there are none. He had not rushed and was able to be precise in everything he did.
After allowing it to dry for a little while, the potter lifts the vessel gently and puts his mark upon it. He is proud of this piece and it shall bear his name for the world to see.
Though perfectly shaped and standing alone proudly, the vessel is not done. In fact, it has yet to undergo the most difficult stages. The potter crosses the room and turns on the kiln, which had been carefully cleaned after its last use.
He then studies the glazes upon the shelves. He chooses the proper glaze for kiln, the perfect color and texture for the vessel itself. He chooses the ebony luster, which has opalescent minerals mixed into it. These minerals were designed to cling to raised areas, thus the color will drip downward when heated and encircle the vessel’s neck. The vessel will brilliantly shine after the firing.
He patiently waits for the kiln to reach the right temperature. He has decided the vessel will be fired alone, for added protection. Though a skilled potter, one just never knows when another piece of clay may explode during the firing process and destroy itself and the other pieces around it. He will not take that risk with this vessel; he had envisioned it much too long to have it destroyed now.
He slips the vessel into the kiln. Closes the door and waits. It will not be done until morning. As he busies himself around the studio he listens for popping sounds. None come. Content that it will survive the firing process, he retires for the night.
In the morning he rises, the vessel the first thought in his mind. He does what needs to be done, and then goes to the studio. The kiln has shut off and it has cooled. He stands before the kiln, takes a deep breath, and opens the door. A smile forms upon his lips as the sun’s rays reach into the depth of the kiln. It survived.
He reaches in and takes it carefully into his palms and carries it to the table. It stands wondrously before him. The sun’s rays bounce off the black luster. The vessel shines, elegantly. The opalescence shows through the glaze, gracefully dripping down as if it were an amethyst necklace or collar.
He is pleased with his creation and proud of the skills he had put to use. Finally, within his own mind, he is a master of the trade. This vessel is his Masterpiece of all time. And his creation stands, glistening in the light before him. He smiles.
©2-22-03 —¤¤»»féather»» aka mjwr
Protected by the copyright law. Not to be reproduced, copied, distributed without the express permission of the author. [email protected]
|
The Potter-an analogy - 
Profile
New Messages
No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages
Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages
Locked w/o New Messages
Post New Thread