Bird

This shallow ceramic bowl – I keep it on the shoe rack near the entrance door. Sometimes a few odd items like screws, buttons or a stone will be gathering in it. More often I leave it empty so I can see the sun rise at the horizon. Or is the sun setting? Many years ago, I brought diese Schale back from Weimar (East Germany) where my mother had moved back in her old age. Every year, I hesitantly ask if I could take a favorite piece back to California. Mama has visited me; she knows where the bird is flying. Carefully I wrap the fragile ceramic and bring it home safely in my hand luggage. Over the years, many other pieces have emigrated with me to Berkeley. Also, Mama is quietly flattered I want her ceramic art. Of course, I do, I gush over her creations. In my twenties I would sell her small unusual enamel brooches, necklaces and earrings. Later in life, her inventiveness comes alive though many birds that can sing melodies – they are ceramic flutes.

I play them occasionally indoors and also under the oaks, and of course other birds will join. This keeps us all alive and well. The other day I break the bowl as a cup slips my hand. Falling not too hard on the bird, but one wing breaks off. First, I am heart broken, but quickly I remember how many things I have glued back together in my life, fixed, mended, and after all I enjoy their longevity. And even admire the enhanced beauty that comes with stories lived, joy and sorrow embraced, and celebrated perhaps. Poetry of life.

Die Schale, ein Flügel gebrochen…

 

In the garden, after the rain storms, birds all round, flitting about, singing to their hearts’ content, now that spring has set in. For the mending of most objects, I use “Uhu Hart” which I bring back from Germany, the glues there are much better, truly. Though these days there is less difference. People here are now beginning to be interested in restoring things instead of throwing them out. This gives me hope, we need to be able to repair. Much needs repair and reparations. American throw-away mentality is foreign to me. Also, in both art and life, perfection is not only boring, but very boring. Japan’s ancient art of kintsugi  – meaning “golden joinery” –  is a good example of honoring the usefulness and beauty of things crafted by hand. A broken cup is joined back together and the seams are highlighted with gold dust mixed into a special tree sap lacquer. History and life story is honored, change is accepted. Not an expert like some, I  grew up however with the art of repairing, and to this day, will immediately be smitten with people who engage in this practice. The knowledge of hands, caring…

jetzt kann der Vogel wieder fliegen

now the bird can fly again

be a bird, be a bowl – hold the story of sun, earth, tree