Pottery
When I awoke the party seemed to have ended and I felt more like my usual down-to-earth self again. I thought it was time to go upstairs for a cup of tea and asked a random individual to lead the way, which he did without enthusiasm and then waved in the direction of some cupboards as soon as we were in the kitchen. I had sort of forgotten whose house I had entered but was undaunted in my pursuit of refreshment. The cupboard was high on one narrow wall of the oblong room and I needed to stand on the work surface in order to peer comfortably inside. Could I have been exceedingly small?
I opened the door on the left and looked vacantly inside, literally wanting nothing but a decent tea-cup. I was somewhat baffled, therefore – seeing as I can be slow on the uptake first thing in the morning – to find what looked to be a motley assembly of oddly-shaped, thick earthenware pots (with handles) that were a far cry from the clean, symmetrical, bone-china that I sought. My first feeling was one of minor irritation, but upon closer inspection the pots revealed themselves to be so fascinating that I can hardly believe that I did not pay more attention to them while I had the chance. One might reasonably call me impatient for the haste with which I scanned the unique creations within.
The owner of the cupboard was evidently an artisan or collector of some sort, for he had the most marvelous set of vessels in there that one could ever imagine. Of uniform size and shape, obviously part of a huge set, each brown pot – being the approximate volume of a small and ordinary tea cup – was fashioned with a unique three dimensional design, the majority of which were the faces of what looked to be elves and pixies, but maybe they were people. There was also a smaller number that were decorated with life-sized birds in flight. This in itself may not seem especially unusual, but if I add that the faces and the birds were real, perhaps the significance of my find might present itself with more value.
I wondered whether he actually owned the full set, the rest of which might have been in use somewhere, or if this was the sum of his collection. Either way, I was impressed, now that the humble beauty of the potter’s hearth was clear before my eyes in the shape of this cupboard full of small creatures that he had made himself. I wondered if I would ever be permitted a sight of this master at work. The fruits of his craft were indeed marvelous but I was sure the pots were far too precious for me to use for tea, and I was loathe to even examine them in detail as they were evidently of great worth. These objects were not for my curiosity or keeping and I thought I should look for something else to drink from.
I opened the adjacent cupboard but found nothing apart from half a dozen boring chipped mugs pushed to the back of the shelf, some without handles, and which generally appeared not to be fit for use - someone had obviously been in and used up all the good ones up already. I looked over my shoulder into the kitchen for a likely culprit and saw little evidence, although I suspected that the two guys over by the door had helped themselves nicely without also offering to make one for me. I obviously wasn’t part of the in crowd – I
didn’t even want tea anymore - I climbed down and decided to go on holiday, seeing as consciousness still hadn’t arrived and reason was keeping quiet, content to go along with anything for the time-being.
“I’m going on a trip, who wants to come”?
