I am sure that the explosion in the kiln was magnifcent. The splitting of clay as it burst forth into a million shards. The force and energy of the movement of what was once solid into a fine powder full of broken suggestions of what it once was.

So sits my day on the edges of the work, once complete and now destroyed. A minor tragedy in the grand scheme of days, but still I rather liked the sculpture.

The day has been like swallowing glass.