There is a very old poem that inspired this piece.
Married Love
You and I
Have so much love,
That it
Burns like fire,
In which we put into the fire the clay
Molded into a figure of you
And a figure of me.
Then we take both of them,
And break them into pieces,
And mold again a figure of you,
And a figure of me.
I am in your clay.
You are in my clay.
In life we share a single quilt.
In death we will share one bed.
One of the deepest human yearnings is to connect with another human being. To be inextricably linked to another soul. “The deep desire for love, to be one with another on all levels, crosses all times and boundaries.” It is interesting to note that from ancient times clay has been associated with the human body.
Poem by Kuan Tao Sheng
Poem translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Kuan Tao Sheng lived from 1262 to 1319, she was a Chinese painter best known for her images of nature and her tendency to inscribe short poems on her paintings.
The Owl
I wanted to find
a reason
why I disappeared.
Then the owl came
circling my thoughts ___
seducing my mind slowly
subtly coming closer.
Perched upon a broken branch,
his indifference
abstract and imposing
revealed my need for meaning,
for dark quiet places of intensity.
Sometimes I feel myself
dissolving into space,
I get smaller and smaller
until I no longer exist.
(meanwhile)
____ the self
shaped by desire
exposed by my insatiable need
moves ever closer to the fire.
But nothing will keep us alive.
I dreamt I asked the fates
why I was being driven
by transitory lust.
(the fates answered)
“Meaning only exists when you
are looking for it, it will tempt you
like a lover and leave you like a beggar.”
And I thought to myself
god, isn’t this what living is?
The wanting that feeds you
the raging storm that seduces you
and always the need for more.
I love
the way we hungered
for one another
the sensuality, the greed and the thirst.
Our bodies
wrapped in the animalism of urge
the predatory talons of
infatuation.
Then I realized what nourishes us
also destroys us.
I have felt my life
unwind like threads,
pulling me forward and backward,
until it’s hard
to put the pieces
back together.
Tonight,
the gilded owl
called out my name,
his voice so familiar,
his eyes
dark and sad.
___ did you even notice I disappeared?
Gesso Cocteau 2025