By Melissa Uchiyama
At my last pottery session, Sakai Sensei picked up my mug. Eyebrows raised, she exclaimed “Karuii.” So very light. I took so much clay out from the inside and still, it didn’t crack. It’s drying. Next time, I’ll glaze, then in a week, it will come back to me, out of the fire.
It’s like that with writing: it’s deep excavation that mostly happens inside. Scraped clay piles up like eraser shreds. “Slowly, slowly,” the potter next to me warns. Or encourages. “Yukkuri.”...
Published on March 09, 2022 04:32