I laid eyes on this perfect little bird my grandson, Rhys, made in his pottery class. I loved the subtle color choice he made; I loved the earnestness of the bird, I loved the heft of it and the shiny feel of it.
He told me he had originally painted the bottom too but his teacher told him he had to scrape it off- it would explode if it were completely covered in glaze.
I told him I was obsessed with it and thought I probably needed to take it home with me. He said, “I was thinking of giving it to you.”
So it’s mine now.
