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Monday, August 23, 2010

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold


I find the further I go into this adventure with clay and fire the less I "get it". The beginning is centering - making the clay one with the wheelhead - balancing the forces at play. I can see and feel when the clay is not centered but only with luck can I push, shape and cajole the clay so that it is centered.

I wonder what there is to learn from this. My mood fluctuates through frustration, bemusement and exhilaration depending on what happens and the degree of control I feel I have over the process.

There is jackhammering going on nextdoor. A 200,000,000 year old sandstone outcrop is being smashed to rubble to make way for a townhouse. This afternoon I briefly escaped the noise, dust and vibration to sit in our car. By chance two poems by W B Yeats were read over the radio: "For Anne Gregory" and "An Irish Airman Foresees His Death".

5 comments:

merc said...

BB; I can see and feel when the clay is not centered but only with luck can I push, shape and cajole the clay so that it is centered.

Adam was, some say, formed from clay. The Alchemists call the Sun symbol - possibly the oldest known symbol, the circle with the dot in the middle...the centred Self.

Venus tracks an 8 pointed star round the Sun, opposing Bodes Law. The Star of Ischtar mirrors this star path. Many far reaching thoughts can be gained from this ;-)

Fresh Local said...

It's as if there's a barrier or disconnect between what I see and feel and how my body responds to it.

I have ideas about the thing but not the thing itself. A duality or schism that may reflect an existential malaise.

merc said...

No malaise! See melancholia by Durer http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melencolia_I - the disconnect = solve et coagulare the nature of the paradox is the tension of opposites held within tension within.
That there is a mind distinct from the body, I will expunge, Blake.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Blake.
All to say that these feelings are perfectly natural for Gradual Development, I Ching, hexagram 53.
Splitting ideas about the thing I have in a poem called, Split, I think in Imago.
Wonderful that you are cajoling clay.

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Fresh Local said...

So how did this bit of spam get through when two others from the same pseudo-blogger were blocked?