"By a river of time, a restless fire,
Ignites in life, what dreams inspire."
This cup flashed well on the inside. Crystals, hints of a drawing on the other, also a surprise that remains hidden.
Ignites in life, what dreams inspire."
This cup flashed well on the inside. Crystals, hints of a drawing on the other, also a surprise that remains hidden.
-:-
I''m thrilled to awake and read that Bruce wants this cup. To me it's a part of him already.
I commented to my wife Ami this morning that the language of fire communicates even what's incomprehensible to the psyche, even over a distance, or over the net, or what's invisible.
This project is such a thought experiment. Let's define the terms of a smaller experiment, which I should love to perform, and let's the outcome.
Take three virtually identical pieces of round pottery upon which a small drawing was made by three different people on one side, in iron oxide. Place them in the kiln to be fired.
When removed, each of the pieces will be smaller, due to shrinkage, and very different in color particularly if the firing was wood. Were it not for the drawing they would seem impossible to differentiate from each other were it not for the drawings.
Yet, in each case, the subject will know which object bears their drawing, even when the drawn side is not revealed. In some way the fire encodes information on all sides onto each and every part of the fired piece, like a hologram. This makes recognition instantaneous.
A hologram as you know is a three dimensional photograph, but perhaps you did not know that a hologram may be cut in half with a pair of scissors, and each half still contains the entire image, albeit with less resolution. Those pieces in turn can be cut in half and so on. Yet the entire image remains in each piece.
Fire balances, and 'knows' what is everywhere, the whole object in the round, all the objects nearby, the rest of the kiln, the wood that went in, even yours and my thoughts while the firing took place.
There is a purely psychic event that resembles both a kiln firing and a hologram, in its reflection of all things.
That is a dream. I'll write about the holographic aspect of dreams another time.
-:-
I write this update on Sunday July 24th. Ami and I met Bruce and his lovely family at Bruce's house. His big impressive paintings paintings are throughout the house and my only regret is that we didn't have time to look at them all. Their engaging children are at that wonderful moment in life, being kids, also fully grown adults at the same time. These are rare moments.
We drank tea after dinner, from mugs that Bruce had made. The first of the 36 cups was delivered to it's owner. I say with pride that it held tea.
I realized' the river of tim'e is in ways, the beautiful brook that runs near their house, and the many years he and his wife spent creating, singing, raising children. Dreams inspire life, and life inspires dreams.
The cup will appear in a brief show of all 36 bowls along with the lovely drawing Bruce handed me as we set to go.
