daily diminishing (day 140)

This tiny clay bird belonged to my grandmother, a gift from her neighbor who is a potter. I remember this sitting on a little shelf in Granny’s house, along with other tiny treasures. I was always fascinated with this potter neighbor when I was growing up, because I did not know many people who were artists (I knew lots of craftspeople, but somehow this woman truly seemed to be a “real artist” in my child’s mind). The potter lived the artists’ life that I had heard about, devoting her life primarily to making her work and living in a handmade house, surrounded by things she had made.


~ by cmclaurin on November 14, 2009.

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