This morning while practicing pottery, I would say without pun that the clay played a trick on me.
From a natural crucible, I grabbed this tender and sticky rock to make up your face and body. The yellowish coating lightened as it dried like a stocking that molds, adheres to the body and wrinkles accentuating your furrows and fine lines. This paste penetrates and prints deep laces on your belly, similar to those of sand when the sea recedes.
I then have a vision: you suddenly become a centenarian with features torn apart by life or a man from beyond, ageless, undated.
This experience worthy of a real masquerade suddenly projected you into the future. I continued to look at you and love you like this, with fear I confess, for the passage is brutal, unreal and unexpected. The clay with rejuvenating properties then became an elixir of degeneration.
I then rubbed in the bath to remove any unnecessary roughness and fortunately you became again you, resurrected and softened. This exfoliation has allowed you to wear a new smooth and luminous skin, which artfully embellishes the original.
For our years to come, it is encouraging to always succumb to the charm of an old clay man!
To be continued…