my love affair with water runs deep into my soul,
the serenity as intense as the tides ebb and flow
Amun pulled the urn from the kiln. Setting it down to cool, he circled it, eying every inch of it. Eventually, he nodded and smiled. The urn was adorned with a woman rising above a sea of lightning, his latest rendition of the Voice.
Waiting for it to be safe to handle (which for him was much sooner than most given he couldn't feel the sting of the heat) he wrapped it carefully in a cloth. Closing his studio up, he stepped out into the night. From there, he made his way towards the shrine in the Woodland, Zhanshi in tow.
Entering into the forest, the potter headed straight towards the tree that hid the shrine. Arriving, he stood on his tiptoes to place his gift in the crook of two branches. When it was settled, he stepped back and bowed his head. Although he couldn't offer words of praise (at least and be understood), he hoped the care he put into his offering would make up for that.
Waiting for it to be safe to handle (which for him was much sooner than most given he couldn't feel the sting of the heat) he wrapped it carefully in a cloth. Closing his studio up, he stepped out into the night. From there, he made his way towards the shrine in the Woodland, Zhanshi in tow.
Entering into the forest, the potter headed straight towards the tree that hid the shrine. Arriving, he stood on his tiptoes to place his gift in the crook of two branches. When it was settled, he stepped back and bowed his head. Although he couldn't offer words of praise (at least and be understood), he hoped the care he put into his offering would make up for that.
nothing is softer or more flexible than water,
yet nothing can resist it
AMUN
