To my shadow

From History of the Nıght:

The sword wıll dıe just lıke the rıpenıng cluster.

The glass ıs no more fragıle than the rock

All thıngs are thıer own prophecy of dust.

Iron ıs rust. The voıce, already echo.

Adam, the youthful father, ıs your ashes.

The fınal garden wıll also be the fırst.

The nıghtıngale and Pındar both are voıces.

The dawn ıs a reflectıon of the sunset.

The mycenean, hıs burıal mask of gold.

The hıghest wall, the humılıated ruın.

Urquıza, he whom daggers left behınd.

The face that looks upon ıtself ın the mırror

Is not the face of yesterday. The nıght

Has spent ıt. Delıcate tıme has molded us.


What joy to be the ınvulnerable water

That ran assuredly through the parable

Of Heraclıtus, or the ıntrıcate fıre,

But now, on thıs long day that doesn’t end,

I feel ırrevocable and       alone.

Serbia, Estonians, and the studio

Well, for those of you who still visit,  a lot of things  have happened since last time. First, 40 people from Estonia and Hungary arrived. The Estonians put up an exhibition (sorry no pictures), and made some very nice dinner parties, which everyone in the studio appreciated. The Hungarian students also have invaded the plaster room which Paul doesn’t appreciate. Second, Our visas almost ran out and seeing this we went to the closes country that is not part of the European Union, Serbia. The fortunate thing was that it was three hours away and about 30 dollars for a round trip. There Paul and I went to Subotica and enjoyed a nice conversation and coffee. I have finished all my works and am waiting for Paul to finish. Next week I will have some pics of my new work. Oh… almost forgot, I experimented with some glass slumping and came out with some nice results.

My work in progress

A poem from Anhang zur Heimskringla(1893) by H. Gering: The generous enemy

In the year 1102, Magnus Barfod attempted to conquer all the kingdoms of Ireland. It is said that he received the following greeting from Muirchertach, the king of Dublin, the night before he died:

May gold and storms serve your army well, Magnus Barfod.

May your battle tomorrow be successful, in the fields of my kingdom.

May your regal hands weave the sword’s cloth, sowing terror.

May those who oppose your sword be food for the red swan.

May your many gods grant you your fill of glory–may they sate you with blood.

May you be victorious at dawn, O king who trots Ireland underfoot.

May none of your numerous days shine more brightly than the day of tomorrow.

Because this day will be your last day, King Magnus, I swear it.

Because before its light is snuffed out, I will defeat you and snuff you out, Magnus Barfod.

It seems that here in hungary I have realized the reason why, functional objects are shaped the way they are, but that’s not what arts all about. So I created images of banality, and some surrealistic but all trying to explain simple truths that we all experience. I use a technique  where one sandwiches images between two slips, but the difference is that there’s no disruption in the surface, I only have here the black slip that makes the image visible and dark, the other using glaze with perfect glaze fit, makes the image more translucent, and the last element makes the image only appear when one has the vessel in a drinking position, or opaque white. I have merged my tea strainers, mug, teapot, and thermos bowl with this technique, i have decided to represent, my way of talking, soft and quiet, some call it mumbling. So the images are seen as the objects are used for their purpose. Here they are in there crude green stage. Enjoy

Classmates,firings, exhibitions Oh my!

Elmer fud watches bugs bunny descend on a white horse. Bugs is dress as a woman and thus,

Oh, brumhilda your so lovely

Yes I know it –IIII can’t help it.

A random memory that pops into my head