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Suktoi Gar (Fire Hands)
-- to Elton and Helen Glaser
Dear Elton and Helen, Kate's firing her kiln, today!
July 4th. No flying sparks, we hope; just praying: fire works.
Scarab rattles, trilobite molds, casts of her hands,
carved tiles, first stones and beetle beads make it a full load.
She got up this morning and turned the kiln on at six
o'clock. We'll tend the firing for ten hours, each in our turn.
It's already eight o'clock: time for Kate to turn
the bottom ring to high. Today,
she's doing a bisque firing: 1800 degrees, at cone-06.
I envy and admire the patience of a potter. Kate works
months toward this time of fruition. What a load
off her mind if everything reaches temperature; if her hands --
and, all her other pieces -- come out alright. Her hands
are in the top part of the kiln, where the best heat turns
bone-dry clay to molten, breathing life; where a lode-
stone of glowing, orange light pulls us to the peeps. Today
is the first time Kate's fired this Skutt. So much in the works!
So much at risk! On the middle shelf, alone, there are 36,
two-inch, carved tiles (counting their blessings), plus: six
fertility stones and seven mugs. I worry about Kate's hands,
which are next to things that could explode. We hear fireworks
going off, down at the Point, and every boom and bang turns
our heads around. "Why -- of all days -- are we doing this, today?"
Kate says. She's nervous, but she's trying to stay focused, load-
ing up on coffee while she worries this seminal kiln load
to the finish. It's taking longer than she thought. It's six
in the evening, now, and the switch still hasn't popped. Today
seems like three, as Kate puts a pair of kiln mittens on her hands
and checks the peeps for the tenth time. When she turns
to me, I can see her patience waning as her mind works
the odds. (New day. July 5th). The pilot cone that works
the shut-off switch finally melted last night, and Kate's load
is cooling. When this century ends, and another one turns
over, her fired objects will be the envy of dust. Like six-
armed Shivas, they'll wave for the touch of somebody's hands,
and, retain -- in stillness of stone -- the hard life they won today.
6:45, evening of the 5th: Kate's already talking about the next
load as she starts pulling her works out of the kiln. She turns
to me -- like night to day -- and puts two warm hands
in these hands of clay.
John Sokol (Click for bio.)