This sculpture is going with us to ‘Potfest’ (yes, it is really called that. There may well be some customers who are dissappointed!) It began with a firing failure, but there was something about her that I could not throw away…
Hopefully this poem makes the same point;
How is she made?
And for whom?
Could that through which she is constructed
Be the very cause of her constraints?
By whom was she broken?
Might she ever mend?