“Untitled”
There is something in this picture of pottery that makes me come back to it. On and on.
Maybe it is in the cold, blue tones of the background. Or the grainy, almost old feel. Or maybe it is the texture, coarse, rustic, irregular, perfect.
I can only guess the amount of manual work, the sharpened skill and passion put into it. The end result that cannot be reproduced on the conveyor belt. At least not easily.
It is this type of imperfect, man-made objects that bear the burden and the ever-so-important task to archive and preserve the art of human mastery and hard work.
How often do we get to stop to look back at our own work? How often are there 7 pieces of treasure left behind? 6? 4? 3? 1?
It may as well be that looking at the picture above, deep in my consciousness, I want to slow things down. To chisel them to perfection, not shine. So that a few months, or years from now I can stop to admire at least one.
It doesn’t have to more…
