It’s National Poetry Month. Springtime. Aries season. As good a time as any to re-emerge here.
From why don’t we know each other (2017):
r e a c h
I suspect
that we are
reaching for one another
despite the walls
which stand between us.
Let us offer
one another
our soft
underbellies—
that which we
hold so closely
protect so carefully
because pain
is painful to expose,
painful to discuss,
difficult to heal.
We can gently
navigate the path
to trust and to be
trustworthy
to dissolve the walls
with our willingness
to touch, to learn,
to emerge
from the dark
together.

This vase was made at the stoood, two years ago, before I rolled my wheel over to April’s studio, before I started renting workspace from Abrams Claghorn Gallery, fired at Laney College before the soda kiln was shut down. Before before before.
What comes after? I wonder.