Poets, writers, wordsmiths and word nerds Get your stories/poems/prose of some sort in for our contest!
‘Name That Vase?’ invites YOU to create a story, poem or prose (thoughtful writing) along with a name for one of our raku vases that just came from the kiln!
Help our vase to know their story!
Consider this a chance to be inspired – a writing prompt or a creative cue.
And if you like, you can view the Name That Vase that started it all here.
As an example,
Here’s our winner from last time!
Congratulations to Juliette Turrell for her winning entry, Aerugo!
This vase’s name is “Hozho”
A grandmother from long ago tried to create a garden but the wind spirit was so strong too many flowers would bend and break before blooming. She thought about how to appease the wind spirit in order to cultivate hozho (which translates to cultivate balance and beauty) One bright and windy sunrise while drinking her morning tea she thought, “I will offer the wind spirit my the turquoise stones from my garden.” She created a tall circle of stones and placed them at the entryway to her garden. The wind spirit scattered the stones, but the grandmother picked them up and built her tall circle of stones once more. The wind spirit was so pleased with the grandmother’s persistent spirit that she pressed the stones together until they formed a long, lovely vase in front of her garden gate. The wind spirit whispered to the grandmother, “With this vase you will always cultivate hozho in your life” That summer grandmother’s garden had herbs, flowers and cacti of every variety surrounding the beautiful vase the wind spirit had made with her offering of turquoise stones. Together they had cultivated hozho!
Name is – The Blue Devine Man. And here is his description: https://nidhikayadav.com/2022/02/05/this-vase-is-but-my-heart/
I wrote a poem Jasper for your vase. I hope I shall win this time. I hope you like it?
It is the Lady’s Vase. Given to her by her beloved husband to commemorate their 5 years of marriage. The vase was the only possession she could save as she fled the onslaught of war in Banda, the only earthly reminder of a husband she would never see again, killed and left unburied as his regiment trampled him underfoot. The love letters were lost but only the vase remained, wrapped in a silken cloth, laying in state in a mahogany box, a precious object she carried in her arms like an infant. The vase remained unbroken and safe through the 5 months of siege and then in November 1857,she carried it out of the Residency, the box was lost but the vase remained. She sewed the vase into her petticoats, still wrapped in silk and so she carried it, through many weary weeks to Calcutta, her only reminder of a love that would stand the test of eternity.