On the coldest of days, the brave and resilient rocked up, and we made our objects of clay: our buttons, hand huggers and animals.
After a melange of soups – thank you Michael for adding Mushroom and potatoe to Kally’s vibrant tomato – we introduced the clay objects from our pasts and our stories of buttons.
- Buttons are trouble for me, i cannot feel them, so my solution is to never undo them!.
I made a butter cup out of clay, no not the flower but a cup to keep butter safe and spreadable .
My great primary school teacher loved the coat I made out of clay. My mothers button box was a rusty quality street tin.
We’d collect buttons, scrape them down and then play football with them. The competition was quite serious. We named them after footballers, we had rules, penalties , and sending offs. It was a glorious waste of time.
My nephew designed clothes with buttons all over them, but he’s moved on to different things now.
A warm up walk to the land to prospect where we could dig our firing pit, and we found a perfect place, where Crispin had dug one of his experimental holes for the ponds.
Back at the fire we made our clay objects, collected a basket of love for Serena, and nattered and chatted away. Tamlin had prepared the clay for us: A fine sieve of Kali clay, a medium sieve of Kali clay, a raw Kali clay, and a smooth slip.
Some closing thoughts:
- A made a thing, a button. Cold hands warm heart. I loved today. I did some weaving for the first time. I felt spoiled today. I made a hand squeeze. I changed my makers mark to dots. Thank you for helping me keep warm. Weaving was wonderful. I’m going home to think about button football. A second fantastic day. This place is special. Two soups for lunch and warm chai. Doro Dango mud dumpling.
Video of me distracting Peter
Tamlins notes are here
Kinda Elders in the woods 