A long weekend trip with a friend
to the town of Laoag overlooking
the South China Sea.
A usual tropical town,
with a public market,
a myriad of newly picked produce
and in this sea side town oodles
of fresh fish, thrashing
in the hawkers’ basins.
There in a far corner an area
of terracotta pots, kitchen
pots for storing and cooking
abound. Tucked on a lower shelf
is something different, a small
ironstone pot with four ears.
What is it, why is it,
who is the potter?
I don’t need to know.
I buy it all the same.
Strong nostalgic lovely vignette. Strong lovely porous volcanic stoneware jar, much desired by 17th C teamen for storing new April tea until November grinding, when the "ears" wear purple or red formal, semi-formal, and informal knots and the mouth seal is decorated with a brocade cap, all displayed in the tokonoma just before the celebratory, but quiet, grinding. Somehow, this one got passed over. Now it serves your quiet meditations. John Toomey
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