I made these bottles. They are cold, hard and hollow. They used to be a solid lump of moist earth, molding in a bag.
People have made these shapes for thousands of years.
What are they for? Liquids? Decoration? Are they appealing?
What place do these things have in a technologically advanced society?
How do these forms relate to the human body? If they represented body parts, which parts of the body would they be?
How do the things we make differ from living things?
Sometimes, when I am throwing a pot, the clay sits down on itself, or slumps over to the side. When that starts to happen, it’s all over.
But on good days, when I am focused, I can spin these bottles out of mud, which makes me feel very powerful.
They are never perfect, but they allude to the concept of perfection. Some are more perfect than others. They will survive us all, in pieces.