|Ah! My Dream Room!|
Mrs. D was an interesting Ceramics teacher. While students would be diligently working on their pieces, messing about in kneaded clay and slurry, she would expound on the intricacies of life. Mainly that it is cruel and unfair and you'd better gird your loins for it. There may be whole litanies I can't readily access of many topics uttered during class times as we kneaded, rolled or glazed. All memories so deeply repressed hypnotherapy might be the only means of retrieving them. Either that or a very good kinetic to read the vibes of anything made from Ceramics class ~ of which I nearly have all.
Aside from this piece, I have a closed container, a pinched face, a strange slab-constructed pencil holder (well, that's what it became when I didn't know what else to do with it), only one of my matching tea bowls. This piece, however, holds a certain place in my heart. Not only was the class required to learn slab construction with this project, we were to create the Room of our Dreams.
That was 30 years ago.
What's funny, hilarious nearly, is how these things I've put in the Room of my Dreams almost exist in my present day life. Not the divan though. It would be divine to have a divan, but it can wait. I feel my Dream Room is comfortable, furnished with things I enjoy now. There are cats and pillows and a book and a painting and plants. The room has a window with flowing curtains, wooden floors with a hooked rug. Funnier still, I wasn't really into knitting during High School yet I included a little knitting in progress on the divan.
Memories in clay. Slab construction, of course.
|I always like my comfy pillows.|
|The cat lounging on the divan was meant|
to be modeled after a large tabby that
was my brother's cat named Orcus.
|The white cat in the window represented|
one of many my mother had owned at one
time or another.
|The crystal on the book is a recent|
addition. Not glued, just set in place.
|There's the knitting and a cozy hassock|
at the window for bird watching.