It used to be that living here in the upstairs of the barn we’d hear the doors downstairs creaking open and shut at all hours of the day and night, occasional violent thumping of clay (often with a rolling pin), and enthusiastic cheering for sumo wrestlers on the pre-recorded (VHS!) bouts that mom would watch while she worked. Since she’s been gone, it’s been awfully quiet, and walking through her studio every day to get “home” has been both heartbreaking and comforting.
But today I noticed in the window a little hello from Seiko.
On top of her clay-covered pug mill, a couple of rescued plants that have been sitting in the studio, enjoying the sun.
And in full bloom, no less. Her love for flowers persists. She was the rare artist who could make them even more beautiful than they already are.
So it’s not so empty after all, downstairs. It’s nice to feel her here every now and then.
*hug*
Really, I’m not a big crier, but every Seiko post puts me over the edge and this one is just enough to send me down a big cliff. Thank you for sharing. I often wonder about the quiet of the space below the barn now and what thats like. I’m so happy you found the flowers in bloom. It reminds me of a plant that my grandmother had on her kitchen table in Bethesda, MD for years and years. When they sold the house after my grandparents died, I happen to be the last family member in the house, closing it up before an estate sale. Right before I left the house (while crying), the last thing I grabbed was this plant in its beautiful vase or else it would have been thrown away. I have since managed to keep the plant alive the past 10 years and it makes me think of her all the time as I know its a living piece of her that she tended to over the years that I’ve managed to keep alive as well. I will show it to you next time you sack our house.
I miss Seiko for you. Thanks again for sharing.
Beautiful, indeed.
Two questions: In Seiko’s (gorgeous!) art piece, are there pockets of water (for the flowers) within the clay?
And, what is a “pug mill”?
Clare:
To answer your questions, there are no pockets of water. Seiko’s vessels are all watertight thanks to the relentless work of Bob, who tested each one carefully and patched any hole before the pieces went to market.
As for the pug mill, it is a marvelous machine that reconstitutes old clay, turning it from hard lumps to beautiful, smooth, consistent clay that can be used to make something else.
Most people throw their old clay away, because ‘pugging’ is a exhausting, endless enterprise. But Bob loves exhausting, endless enterprises.
Here’s an old post (from our old blog) on a day spent pugging:
http://www.thebarnstorming.com/archives/2006/04/pugging.html
Stel – thanks. I needed that.
Veronica – I’d love to see it. I’m terrible at keeping plants alive, so I’m glad this one just seems to be making it without much help from me. Hopefully we didn’t sack your house too badly last weekend. It’s just that Matthew’s so hard to control.
Clare – pretty much all of mom’s containers held water. I have lots of rejects that seep or are cracked that are still really beautiful, but mom insisted they be functional for the flowers as well.
A pug mill is basically an old clay recycler – it mashes up dry clay with wet clay, mixes it around, and squeezes out a loaf of fresh, solid clay with no air bubbles in it.
Have a look at our very old barnstorming post about it:
http://www.thebarnstorming.com/archives/2006/04/pugging.html
Oops. In the time it took me to find that entry on theBarnstorming, Matthew, in his furious energy, wrote a whole response already. Sorry for the dupe. (By dupe I mean “duplicate,” though I suppose I could also mean “matthew”).
Thank you for sharing moments such of these. They are the true gems of this blog for me – although I must admit I enjoy every post, especially the ones involving the children.
Just to recap:
I am the bits of dry, worthless clay. Robbi is the pug mill. The attempt to reconstitute me is an exhausting, endless enterprise. And yet Robbi keeps on pugging.
Matthew
Robbi, Matthew,
I guess I assumed a there was a “pocket” for water on the side because I can’t see an opening in the top.
Anyway, it is very beautiful, all the more so because of the way your mom is framed by the piece.
And, thanks for the “pug mill” post. I had never seen or heard of one.
I often think of this kind of thing (your going through Seiko’s studio) when I go by the barn. Thanks for reading my mind and letting us know … I hope I wasn’t being too nosy. It’s still a mighty big adjustment. As sk said, *hug* – apologies for stealing her sentiment.
I, too, miss Seiko for you. How someone I never met (and whom I saw in only a handful of photos) could so move me in her absence is a testament to you two and your amazing skills in distilling such powerful moments into gentle, kind, and simple words. I cherish most the things people I love have left behind, though none are as vibrantly alive (or as beautifully described) as your flowers.
May you find comfort and joy in this herald of the coming spring.