You know how you can always get more pots into a bisque than you can into a glaze, and how those leftover pots stack up? and then, every firing, there are a few refires. It's those pots - the leftovers and the do-overs - that are filling up this load, which is how I can fire so soon on the heels of the last one.
Actually I had plenty of leftovers this time, too, so I'm halfway to the next load.
Here is my favorite moon-related poem:
Song for Ishtar
By Denise Levertov
The moon is a sow and grunts in my throat
Her great shining shines through me
so the mud of my hollow gleams
and breaks in silver bubbles
She is a sow
and I a pig and a poet
When she opens her white
lips to devour me I bite back
and laughter rocks the moon
In the black of desire
we rock and grunt, grunt and
shine
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