This Temenos is so personal to me that I have not shown it to anyone outside of class. I took to heart the assignment verbatim as Kate described:
Think about what you need for safety and freedom in this class
Play with the clay - see what emerges
When I dug my fingers into the cool clay in mid September, I was desperate for support. I had just come off a tough year full of trauma and hard emotional work. I was lonely in this city and feeling alienated. I needed a hand to hold. So I made one.
I was so scared for this hand while it was still drying. I had wanted a strong, heavy hand on top of mine but here was this damp thing that could break at any second. If I dropped it, it might crack - what if the pinky broke off? I was most worried for that signature pinky, crooked like mine and all the women on my mother's side of the family generations before. That pinky, which perches like a princess drinking tea, is how you know that hand is mine.
The hand has dried now, though the darker shading never left the top. It comforts me at the same time that I feel hesitant around it. I am yet to fully explore it and the mystery it holds is still greater than the familiarity of seeing my own hand.
This photo shows most clearly what this hand is for me:
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