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ClAy BodieS

By Rosie Dalton

 

An excerpt from Chapter Two of The Hands Series
a haunting tale of personal and artistic discovery
set in modern day france

 

 

An excerpt from Chapter Two of The Hands Series
a haunting tale of personal and artistic discovery
set in modern day france

Cradling the patterned mug, I found myself absent-mindedly fingering its organic outline; tracing the tell-tale grooves where the ceramicist’s fingers had impressed upon the clay. I could feel the gentle coercing of nature from one form into another. And began to tug at what that might mean for humankind.

Cradling the patterned mug, I found myself absent-mindedly fingering its organic outline; tracing the tell-tale grooves where the ceramicist’s fingers had impressed upon the clay. I could feel the gentle coercing of nature from one form into another. And began to tug at what that might mean for humankind.

“There is a lot that is unspoken about a place — its darkness or lightness. What has transpired there and how that might impact future events.”

Nostalgic memories flooded in of the salt-kissed breeze and sand beneath my toes. Of swimming in the great blue, as limestone cliffs towered up above us into the sky. And of that bittersweet skin tautness one gets from sitting too long in the sun.

 

Nostalgic memories flooded in of the salt-kissed breeze and sand beneath my toes. Of swimming in the great blue, as limestone cliffs towered up above us into the sky. And of that bittersweet skin tautness one gets from sitting too long in the sun.

 

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