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!