I seem to still be in Canada in my consciousness, so I invite you along with me. This is a field of Canola plants, in full yellow blossom, close to harvest. As I traveled along the open highway, I saw these flowers stretching for miles, or kilometers as the Canadians say.
Every day many of us go to our kitchen and use canola oil to prepare our food. This is where it all starts, in these beautiful fields of yellow blossoms. The ordinary becomes a totally different entity. That which we look at one way, suddenly becomes transformed.
Art contains all those elements of changing forms into other forms. Clay starts out as a piece of wet earth. I take my hands and I shape it into what I hope it will agree to. Yes, it is really a living thing to me and so, will sometimes follow, yet sometimes resist. As with all transformation, there is perhaps the element of luck, or my prayers to the kiln gods which may influence the outcome. Looking inside the mind of a ceramicist.
I guess it is really about change. Just going far away and seeing those fields of brilliant color will change my views.About the Canola oil in my kitchen; how vast Alberta fields stretches as far as my eye can see; what I am going to create out of the images swirling in my brain.
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