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One of three shots I took today, for use with my work. My mother-in-law had this pitcher made for me in 2002.
An impressive collection of clocks with hands not digits on show at Clevedon Crafts Centre in Clevedon close to Junction 20 of the M5. The centre has a number of workshops. It was founded in 1971 in the outbuildings of a farm which was once part of the Clevedon Estate,
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands
-e.e. commings