Brown Bowl.

Its simple. It just sits there - once in a while accumulates junk, sometimes fruit. It looks perfect with an avocado. Its just a boring brown bowl. Maybe a bit survivalist. Or perhaps discarded like the last autumn leaf that falls late in the winter. For a moment I miss molding clay and the glazes and the surprise of pulling the piece from the oven.

This week my oldest daughter is parting with the past. Her lovely things falling away like browned autumn leaves...we can't help but regret the winters that seem to take so much from us, but spring never fails to come...Never.

Just as a piece comes from the kiln, the future is a surprise. Perhaps some bubbles here and a small crack there. It doesn't mean the piece is any less beautiful. Nor any less one of a kind, only more so. She will take the mud left there and mold it until some right thing forms and find a suitable glaze and it too will be ready for the firing. And her life will be like my line up of pots and pieces - it will tell her story, both the broken pieces and the exquisitely perfect pieces.