Pink Skies
I found the rock first.
A dusty pink stone on the South Wairarapa coastline, in a place where the weather usually has its own rules.
Most of the rocks out there are green with blue or salt-washed white, but this one stood out, soft pink, a couple of white veins running through it like old scars.
One jagged edge.
Sitting upright as if it had always been waiting.
The bowl came later.
It was made from a piece of elm that fought me the whole way, awkward, nothing going as I wanted.
I tried to adze the top, but it just wouldn’t behave, so in the end I burnt it back.
Charred it, brushed it, let the fire do the smoothing I couldn’t.
Now the whole inside is covered in these small dimples, and the outside’s cracked and dark like cooled embers.
When the black bowl met the pink rock, something about it finally made sense.
Life doesn’t always turn out the way you think it will.
Sometimes what you pictured refuses to take shape.
Pink skies at the end of a long day.
A reminder that even the rougher stories can still land somewhere beautiful.
Pink Skies
I found the rock first.
A dusty pink stone on the South Wairarapa coastline, in a place where the weather usually has its own rules.
Most of the rocks out there are green with blue or salt-washed white, but this one stood out, soft pink, a couple of white veins running through it like old scars.
One jagged edge.
Sitting upright as if it had always been waiting.
The bowl came later.
It was made from a piece of elm that fought me the whole way, awkward, nothing going as I wanted.
I tried to adze the top, but it just wouldn’t behave, so in the end I burnt it back.
Charred it, brushed it, let the fire do the smoothing I couldn’t.
Now the whole inside is covered in these small dimples, and the outside’s cracked and dark like cooled embers.
When the black bowl met the pink rock, something about it finally made sense.
Life doesn’t always turn out the way you think it will.
Sometimes what you pictured refuses to take shape.
Pink skies at the end of a long day.
A reminder that even the rougher stories can still land somewhere beautiful.
