ceramics | imagined corners | material woman


how do women walk

between me and my sister

open end

dry tears

coming round again

things not worth keeping


At the round earth's imagin'd corners, blow
Your trumpets, Angells, and arise, arise
From death, you numberlesse infinities
Of soules, and to your scattered bodies goe
john donne - holy sonnets

still alive

weeping woman

give me a call

blue moon

imagined corners

below the surface