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CERAMICS WALKS First course ceramics. |
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Undressed I am one, I watch myself at home and I am ok, safe, outside would not be the same. Ever since I begin to dress and I fit the stockings, I put the bodice I begin to feel a little another one. As the flowerpot to the flowers, as the condiment to stews or the frame to a printing, as an actress assigned to a roll, we became somewhat into what it covers us. From the feet to make up or a hat, all the attire that crosses the body is somewhat we, we are also what it covers us, that is our arrangement and the skin is the bottom, as the soul is the bottom of the skin. The external thing is also internal that’s why the objects also speak of us, about who we are.
I sit down next to little prince to contemplate how the dressed hollows go, and the hollow dresses. While the industry spins and tiles, and the sidewalks presume the walks parade, of people who come and go, of travelers who exhibit themselves proud and flagrant, of its daily walks, I’m still observing, dressing and undressing, mending like tailor, threading and un threading in each piece empty, sad, unfortunate, or happy souls, there, in its ceramics walks. |
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Ceramics |
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Web site designed by Karla Rojo, hosted by midphase.com |
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