And yet it was within
I could not shape
The void which makes all vessels useful
God holds that space
We control the edges
And I think where those two meet
Is very special
And there is a deeper koan here and a lighter meaning too, go as deep as you like into the concept of fullness and usefulness and space and the void and vessel. It’s where my brain goes for sure…
Because that’s life, energy, the line we skip back and forth – the duality we join with when we create anything beautiful and of meaning whether it’s poetry or a pot.
Header photo are my creations from my pottery class at Christmas time. The wonky one is my favourite, I was concentrating so hard and then our tutor said “righto ten minutes to go” and it broke my focus and of course my pot bore the consequences.
You sent me looking for Omar with your koan. And it turned out that both you and Khayyam are on WP.
https://wp.me/p8htFA-g5
A nice twist.
Thank you
DD
Oh well now you have sent me looking for this other blogger too, thanks for the heads up.
Maybe the pot ended up impractical, but there’s beauty in imperfection, too. Think of Kintsugi – the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold or other materials.
The wonky one was my favourite one Yacoob, for many reasons and the Japanese have many wise practices
“the duality we join with when we create anything beautiful and of meaning” — Funny, I’ve been having conversations lately about this very idea. I really love the line, “The void which makes all vessels useful” and the irony of “full of use” here. It’s the same with a door — you need both, the frame and the empty space, the seen and the unseen, the interplay of tangible and intangible, the object and its shadow. . . . This is a rich and valuable metaphor.
I like the wonky pot, too, actually. Sometimes it’s the flaw that adds the art.
Well these days we can buy so many perfectly made pots in cheap stores – they all look alike – there is a feeling to handmade that resonates. I particularly like pinch pots these days, their sides wear the imprints of the hands that made them
True. I love hand-thrown pottery (I almost typed poetry 🙂 ), but I hadn’t really thought much about why. Maybe it’s because each piece sings a little bit the song of its maker.
That’s a lovely way to put it