Clay Play 102

Previously I promised progress. Well, I'm not sure everyone will agree, but I see progress, and I learned from even the mistakes in said progress. Take this vase, for instance. It's a wee bit taller than previous works. I imprinted leaves from various plants in the yard, and I had hoped to use various glazes to create fall colors. Even though I inquired on the use of different glazes to achieve my purpose, I didn't express myself clearly. I used iron oxide red in the veining and imprint lines of the leaves, and then I added an underglaze in burgundy, yellow orange, and tan to the leaf outlines. Later I learned that the glazes only stay in the imprint, thereby eliminating the effect of the iron oxide and having no effect on the coloring of the leaves themselves. I also learned that not all leaves are created equal when it comes to veining. The best leaves for this came from my dogwood tree. Though not an entire success, I'm pleased (generally) with this vase because of the shape, mainly, and what I've learned through my mishaps.

This vase is a lovely mistake. Though perhaps too short, I like the shape. The ragged edges around the top were the result of not knowing how to use the needle tool effectively to cut away a mistake. But, I decided to try and make them look like petals. I'll concede that they don't exactly look like petals, but I like the effect. My greatest disappointment is that it is too short, but it may make a good bud vase. I dipped this in a raspberry glaze that was rather glumpy, but I lightly sanded down the "glumps" hoping that would prevent them from bursting and leaving gaping holes. It worked, so I count some measure of success. I glazed the rim and painted trios of dots on the with circumference an antique white glaze. Thankfully, I refrained from using a band of antique white below the bulge. Not a grand little vase but "interesting."

And here I have saved the best for last. I cannot tell you how pleased I am with this bowl, though some may think, "Big deal." You've never thrown on a wheel, then. I really like the shape of this. I dipped half of the bowl in Falls Creek Sand glaze and half in Turquoise. This is my favorite glaze combo/treatment yet. You'll see more of this in the future, I promise. This is probably the first sellable piece I've produce, but I plan to give it to a special friend next week. I can always make more, right?!

Next week, I have a raku mug that I've rather pleased with and perhaps a different shaped bowl and mug, if I can get them fired, glazed, and re-fired again in time for posting. Keep checking back for more poetry and pottery.

Memory Wrapped in Rice Paper

When I think how far Ting Ting Jahe ginger candy has traveled

just to bathe my mouth in fiery sweetness, I blush at the indulgence

represented by this soft amber nub wrapped in translucent

rice paper, a pearly layer of starch disguising waves

of creeping sweet and ginger released as the tongue kneads

this gem against the roof of the mouth, its bite lingering

on the tongue's surface and the throat's opening.

It's sweet sting so like the memory of you.

I don't consider the cost of sending this extravagance

halfway around the world.

I think only of extracting the flavor

as bitterness, softness, and sweetness melt away.

When little is left, the pliable nugget reduced

to a thin grainy layer, sweetness is lost in bitterness,

intensifying at the throat until nothing

remains but the sting of ginger,

a faint sweetness.

So like the memory of you.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

This poem was inspired by three things: "The Traveling Onion" by Naomi Shihab Nye, my favorite ginger candy, and the bittersweetness of some relationships. I looked for a link to Nye's poem on a poetry site and couldn't find it, but you can read it here.

In the Ladies' Fitting Room

We look in the mirror, each line reminding

us of how quickly time is slipping through.

We each tell the other, I still feel young, or

Fifty is the new thirty. We still have time.

Secretly we think, How much longer can I show

cleavage? When is death more likely than finding

a partner? Am I doomed to grow fat and dowdy?

We each tell the other, We still have time.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

This is my response to Poetry Picnic Week 8: Friends, Relationships, and Everyone Around. A shopping trip a couple of years ago with my beautiful best friend Glenna provided the inspiration.

Impossible- Haiku Heights Challenge

Elegant words are

Impossible when life's noise

drowns the muse's voice

©2011 R.M. Talbot

Clay Date #2

Week 2 of pottery detour produced three more bowls--bowls that I had thought held a promise of improvement. My how shadowy memory is!

Yes, there was some improvement, though quite modest. In my mind, I had thought my bowls had gotten bigger and more "finished" in appearance. If they are bigger, they are only a wee bit bigger. On two of the three, as you will see, I've used stamps to create a design.

The top bowl was supposed to have been a soup bowl, but one would have to fill it about five times to satisfy one's hunger! I've included my lens cap in the photo to help with scale.

The tea bowl above (which IS the right size for sipping tea) and the soup bowl above were embellished with stamps. I then rubbed iron oxide red into the crevices of the design; then I glazed over each piece with peridot. Each bowl has an interior glaze of chino green, which I really like.

The last bowl may become another small dog bowl. It is glazed in a honey amber, which I like, but I think I may mix it with something in the future.

The process of throwing, firing, glazing and re-firing takes some time, which is why I'm on week 2 with the finished product and on week 7 of the course. I didn't glaze anything this week. By only going once a week, I'm further prolonging the process. However, I have been throwing each week, and I'm trying to squeeze in a second day of work in the studio. Subsequent pieces, I believe, will really show progress. I have two vases, two bowls (which is where growth is clearly evident) and two mugs. Of course, memory may be better than the reality!

Either way, I'm hooked! I love the feel of the clay spinning through my hands and the magic of creating something with at least some aesthetic appeal using a lump brown clay.

Come back soon--there will be more poetry and more pottery soon!

What Once Was

Shards of jagged glass

swept to the center of the room.

A hint of what once was

when the thing was whole,

complete and solid.

It no longer holds the promise,

the bright, fresh-squeezed juice

of a new day,

the breaking dawn

or birdsong.

Time hangs

in that hour before dawn

in the stillness of a silent night

in the shatter of a broken vessel.

Shards of jagged glass

in the center of the room.

Stepped over, swept aside,

no longer whole,

complete and solid.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

The Height of Haiku Challenge, Day 30

Whisper

Autumn leaves whisper,
While falling from summer heights,
“Listen! Thanatos comes.”

©2011 R.M. Talbot

The Height of Haiku Challenge, Day 29

Rhythm

Undulating sea

mirrors life's ebb and flow.

Luna-tic rhythms.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

The Height of Haiku Challenge, Day 28

Charm

Twinkling eyes, bright smile

Electromagnetic pull

Draws me to the flame

©2011 R.M. Talbot

Crafty Detours

I've never been able to fully quit the seasonal habit I have of hibernating in the summer, which explains my long absence. I am more acclimated than I was twenty years (or so) ago when I first moved to Alabama. As the summer days grew hotter and longer, I would barricade myself inside the house, usually mid-June, and not come out until mid-October. This seemed a particularly grueling summer, but I was able to stay outside and plant flowers and vegetables until late June, and I've reemerged in late August/early September.

My recent detour, which will likely last for some time, is pottery lessons. Pictured are week 1 creations. Granted, these don't look particularly impressive, but you don't know my pottery history.

Several years ago I took pottery lessons with my daughter Iris. My skills throwing clay were abominable. I left the eight-week course wit only three finished pieces worth keeping, none of which were as tall as any of the three bowls pictured, all of which were made the first day of class. I've made some improvement, at least.

Tiring of the little bowls, but fully aware I wasn't going to make anything much grander that day, I decided to make Mr. Wilson a new bowl to replace the one I broke weeks before. He had been eating out of cereal bowl, which was much larger than he needed and likely resulted in over feeding.

Now, I may be a bit sensitive, but Wilson seemed a tad critical of my endeavors. I had to coax him to eat from his new bowl by tempting him with a morsel from my hand. Deciding food was the most important thing, he deftly–or was it cautiously–lifted one piece of dog food from the bowl and ran to the other side of the kitchen to eat it. This went on for about 30 minutes.

Subsequent pieces, which I'll post as soon as they are glazed and re-fired, have gotten taller, though not refined. But, with each piece I am learning the limitations of the clay, and I'm increasing my ability to pull the clay a little thinner and a little taller. I've also learned to be less cautious with the water–it's good to feel the sleek, smooth surface of the clay slip through your hands, which isn't what you'll feel if the clay is too dry.

This detour is going to be fun!

Gardenias

Summer and the scent of gardenias-can't beat it. This is one of the last to bloom this season, so while playing with my new macro filter, I took a couple of shots. In the photo program, I also did some playing with color intensity, exposure, and contrast to make the lines of the flower stand out and intensify the blue and green color play. The blue is from a hydrangea blossom.

Stop and smell a flower today!

In the Nursery

As the last few pictures attest, my only frequent activity these days is in the garden. The calendar suggested the beets and potatoes were ready for harvesting, but I wasn't sure, having never grown either. So, I dug up one potato plant. To my delight, there were two perfect, new potatoes. To my dismay, I may have wiped out several more that still needed time to grow, as evidenced by the tiny red dots you can observe to the right of the "ready" potatoes. I boiled them, along with the baby beet I harvested (honestly no bigger than a cherry), and had a very simple lunch seasoned with fresh pepper, butter, and parsley from the garden. The potatoes melted in my mouth.

I tried tamping the tiny spuds back in the ground, but I'm afraid I've likely killed any potential potatoes on that plant. It looked pretty wilted when I went back outside. But I am excited that I will have SOME potatoes.

On the bottom right you can see a baby butternut squash. This will be a first for me as well.

So that is all the news I have from the veggie nursery. I'm looking at a macro lens, which should improve shots of smaller, close-up objects. We'll see.

Sunday Afternoon

I wish I had been able to capture the light as well as it looked while taking the picture. Friends were over cooking and visiting with us. Deli had just finished chopping vegetables on the new table I set in the corner of the kitchen for a breakfast nook. I picked the gardenias Sunday before they arrived--I wish you could smell how wonderful they are.

While standing in the kitchen, I turned around to see the light falling on the corner of the table, the splash of white against the heart pine walls, and I new I needed a photograph.

Veggie Tales

Isn't that lovely! This is the first blossom of the butternut squash growing in the garden. I should call it the accidental squash because we had thrown squash guts into the compost bin and found 10 little seedlings growing a week or so later. I planted all 10, but the dogs and cat relieved me of some of the seedlings; I was a wee bit mad about that because only three survived the pet attack. However, looking at the space those three take up in the garden, I'm glad their numbers are limited!

I'm not pleased with the past two months of 30-day Detour postings, so when June hits, I'm going to alternate with a poem and a photo each day--I think I should have time then.

Encore Provence

There has been no time to play with the camera--probably there will be no time until after next week, so I bringing up another photo from my 2008 trip to France. We left Paris on the TGV, a high-speed train, and arrived in Avignon after about two hours. After spending the night there, we began our whirlwind tour with stops just outside Avignon to see the Roman ruins of aqueducts, then to Arles where we saw the ruins of a Roman amphitheatre, and through Nimes and an ancient Roman coliseum.

Then we turned toward Provence and the villages of Peter Mayle's series of books on Provence. Glenna and I stumbled upon this castle ruin when we took a wrong turn somewhere in the Luberon. If I remember correctly, this facade was across the valley from Gordes.

Glenna was a little worried about getting out of the car and poking around the grounds, but I didn't think we could pass up the opportunity to wander just a bit. Whether the area surrounding the castle walls had been a moat or perhaps an interior garden between an outer wall and the castle wall, I cannot say. But it was a fun little adventure none-the-less!

She and I hope to make our way back to Paris in the next year or two, and maybe we'll be able to wander dusty roads of the French countryside once more!

Sweet Jasmine

The weather is still pleasant, even cool at times, here in Alabama; so pleasant, in fact, we've been eating family dinner and had dinner with a friend on the deck in recent weeks. Sitting at the table, a light breeze washes us in the scent of jasmine.

This is my favorite time of year. Skies are clear and blue, and something is in bloom all the time. Spring showers wash everything, making the world look fresh and green. In a couple of weeks, we'll have gardenias in bloom and some old-fashioned pink roses with the most heavenly scent.

Ahhh. Spring.

Theme Day (a day late)

One of my favorite blogs--one I've followed for a couple of years now--is Paris Daily Photo. The blog is part of a network of blogs that feature photographers from all over the world who post photographs each day of life in their respective cities. The first of the month is always theme day, and the May 1 theme was mailboxes. While I think my mailbox is more picturesque than the one featured on PDP, I am late, and I didn't have time to use manual settings. I shot this on the way out the door to work, so I chose automatic focus; however, it didn't focus automatically, as my first picture would attest. But, it did take care of aperture and shutter speed for me as I was in a hurry out the door. I've always loved the look of vines adorning a mailbox, so I decided to take the challenge--one day late in America, two days late in Paris. Unfortunately, the iris have already bloomed, but the lovely Clematis is still performing!

Tomorrow is another early day to work, so I'm not sure that I'll use the manual settings, but I'm going to try very hard to have a picture posted. A photograph a day is much more manageable than a poem a day!

Kudos

Kudos to all my friends who bravely accepted--and completed the challenge of NaPoWriMo by writing a poem a day, or at least 30 poems in 30 days. As you can see, I was not able to do so, in part because I made my other blog my first priority, and work got in the way.

Because I recently bought a new camera (new to me), my next detour is going to be photography. My Nikon D60 has manual and automatic settings, and I want to practice using the manual settings. Years ago, I used a Pentax 1000, which was nothing but manual, and took some pretty decent shots, so I'm ready to reacquaint myself with shutter speed and aperture.

Today, I'm going to cheat and post one of my favorite photos from France. My best friend Glenna and I were in the Luberon in the South of France one beautiful May several years ago. After four or five days in Paris, we took the train south to Avignon, rented a car, and made a whirlwind tour of Roman ruins in various towns--Arles, Nimes, and somewhere near Avignon where ancient aquaducts can be seen. We then went up into the Luberon to see towns like Bonnieux, Apt, and Menerbes. I was forever asking her to stop so that I could take pictures of poppies. This photograph is from Bonnieux, one of the small towns in the mountains where lavender and poppies bloom profusely along the roads.

Clouded

Memory, blue and

clear as summer skies, blackens to

angry thunderheads.

Survival of the Fittest

You've come a long way, baby,

Since the day you stood at the mouth

of the cave, club in hand, preying

for your next meal, your next mate.

You've arrived! Big man on

the corporate campus standing,

Blackberry in hand, surfing

for your next takeover, your next date.

No more face-to-face, Facebook me instead.

No more hand-to-hand combat, UAV's do the deed.

You've adapted "survival of the fittest" from biology,

applying it to commerce and humanity to justify

the -isms: racism, sexism, imperialism, capitalism.

You've evolved, homo sapiens, to a first-rate primate.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

This poem is from a prompt from Jingle Poetry site with an invitation to write on the theme of "Evolution, Environment and Survival" for their Poetry Potluck Monday series.

Remedy for Disaster

When life is in disorder and the house in disarray,

When the world implodes around me,

I don a pair of blinders and play the day away.

I start with the computer and hit the Tetris link

and line up all the tetrads, neat as they can be,

When life is in disorder and the house in disarray.

Once that corner is in order, it's time for me to think,

to blog about gardening and food on land and sea.

I don a pair of blinders and play the day away.

Then, I skip into the garden, blind to dishes in the sink,

Playing in the dirt among the critters and the bees

When life is in disorder and the house in disarray.

When the day is nearly over, before I have a drink,

I play with form and words and rhyme: a - b - c.

I don a pair of blinders and play the day away.

At last it's time to yawn, I'm at exhaustion's brink.

To play all day is tough--I'm as tired as can be!

When life is in disorder and the house in disarray,

I don a pair of blinders and play the day away.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

Just a little levity for a Friday afternoon. I generally shy away from meter and rhyme, but I guess I felt playful today. This is a light-hearted villanelle inspired by a friend.

Beneath Still Waters

Layers of color, of life, of power

Ebb and flow, obey the moon.

We stand ashore

Lulled by the sound of lapping waves

Enchanted by golden flecks of light

Riding the rippling surface

Mixing azure and gold.

So calm, so peaceful.

Waves of silver undulate below,

Reflecting and miming the dance above.

We drag our nets

Hand over fist over fist over hand

Taking all she has to give

And more--tuna, salmon, cod, and

More. Until

Like the hounds of hell, black fury

Rumbles and roars and pushes

skyscrapers of boiling, seething

water hand over fist over fist over

land, swallowing all that lies

in her path

before

retreating

with

her catch

to the

sea.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

Sadly, this poem was inspired by the second earthquake to hit Japan, footage of the previous tsunami from last month's quake, and my reading of Four Fishes by Paul Greenberg. The ocean is so beautiful, and we take it for granted, it seems, by over-fishing and polluting it. We forget it's power and fury. This poem tries to capture all of these elements.

Comet

Dancing, prancing through the potatoes,

Sassy Sasha is just getting started,

Revving up for a romp through the peas.

A streak of silver gray, a garden comet,

With a tail of destruction through the cosmos

blossoms squashed, squash stems snapped

in two, sugar snap peas flattened.

What am I to do?

©2011 R.M. Talbot

The Promise

one by one

by one

she placed hard

flint-like specks

in furrows

of soil,

dusted the tops

with more of

the same;

dreamt of the promise--

rich, red beets

sweet and crisp

©2011 R.M. Talbot

Rather than my usual fare of serious, morose verse, I seem to be caught up in this season of planting. I've not had enough time to really think and play with the words/ideas in my head, so I took this exercise from The Practice of Poetry, edited by Robin Behn & Chase Twichell. This particular exercise prompts the poet to pattern three poems after William Carlos Williams's cat poem. I did only one.

Clearly Misunderstood

I took the NaPoWriMo challenge: "Try writing a poem that responds to or riffs off of one of someone else’s NaPoWriMo poems." This poem is a spin-off a participant's blog title rather than a participant's poem.

Clearly Misunderstood

The masthead read, "Elegant Truth."

It is a lie. When is the truth

elegant? When first spoken, truth

rubs like sandpaper. To hear

-your baby's dead

-you've lost your job

-you have cancer

can all be true

but never

elegant.

Bespeak the truth with honeyed lips.

It is still truth. Whisper sweetly

words of dissolution, of death-

-she's in heaven

-budget crisis

-six months to live

though maybe true,

truly not

elegant.

Perhaps the writer of the masthead

meant to pen "Elephant Truth."

Truth tramples like the elephant.

Its power can coil round you,

constrict breathing

flatten spirits

immobilize.

Clearly not

elegant.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

April Snowfall

It begins in March.

Whirls of wispy white behind the window,

Delicate paper-thin pear blossom petals

Drift and scatter across patio furniture

As sugar-fine snowflakes had in January.

Then

like a blizzard

April explodes.

Drifts of dazzling white

Mound on the roadside, blanket trees and shrubs

In understated elegance--dogwood, azalea--

Thick as the snows of Michigan winters.

My Alabama blizzard.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

Moon Gardener

This poem is my first attempt at writing Sijo, a form of Korean poetry. It celebrates my rekindled love for the garden.

Moon Gardener

As the sun set, I remembered to forget your touch upon my skin,

Shutting out the sand-papery, earthy roughness that made me smile.

The moon rose; I planted a seed. Again, I feel you against my skin.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

Ode to April

(This is National Poetry Month, and everywhere people are beginning a month-long commitment to writing a poem a day. This is my first attempt toward that commitment, my April detour.)

April deafens

with boisterous

fuchsia-painted

azaleas

and

heralding trumpets

of daffodils

and

Frost's gold-green

leaves.

April deafens

with euphonious

dawn-breaking

birdsong

and

goblin-howls

of mating cats

and

growling purrs

of furrowing tractors.

April deafens

with sonorous

alliterative

consonant

metaphoric

voices.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

Update

Since previous posts, all of which I decided to eradicate, my detours have taken me many places: London, Paris, Provence, three class shy of coursework for a Ph.D. in English education, marriage, a quest to cultivate my beer and wine palate, hiking, foreign films, countless books, and a renewed spiritual quest. My husband challenged me to start a blog and to write everyday for lent. I've missed a few days, but I'm doing much better with Honey Bees and Locusts than I've done with previous blog attempts. So, even if short-lived, that has inspired me to put the an blog to death and resurrect it again with new content and a new look. I rather like the title, so I decided not to change that.

All of the above detours have left me wanting more--with the exception of the Ph.D. I want to travel more, read more, drink more (for educational reasons), and love more, especially my husband.

About a year ago, I told a colleague of mine that I thought I might want to blog about poetry and things spiritual. Maybe that's what I'll do. Maybe I'll use it for daily detours. The palette is clean and open to possibility.