Pushing the limits of the shell
Scorch, line, scrape, beat, form,
This blob of a rough block of malleable clay,
Dance with it,
Look at it, rotate around it.
Suddenly the desire to enter its inside.
But the inside needs to be opened,
Forced, created, made to exist.
It doesn't know itself yet as a hollow,
A potential recipient when expanded.
No inner energy to move to a new condition.
The wrath of the elements like a salvation
Seek your transformational possibilities,
Stretch and find whereto,
The dance of the elements has entered,
You are now force, energy,
Now you move me.
Ester Beck, 2008