Since departure from the Annex,
I have come to this:
The modeling of clay…
and form discovered;
The long wait through the holidays
and prolonged grieving over losses;
The tentative and awkward coloring of form
with untried glazes.
Shame and grief have been replaced
by celebration of the feminine form…
and patience as the only road to truth
I have looked closely
at my youth and aging
as collaborative.
I have caught glimpses of
my own delight in detail.
Artistic process at its best
reflects the life:
Hard work and perseverance
simply aren’t enough.
I cannot shut out what my heart is suffering…
my mind is sorting through.
Nor can I shut out
the distractions caused by my attachments,
for these are born of love and vulnerability
which making art requires.
Ambivalence accepted
can reveal essential elements:
Though I may struggle against
my need for restful emptiness of purpose,
I know my own soul’s reverence for timing
must be reckoned with.
As I cry out for wholeness and completion
It is being realized.
A Dance of Balance 