Held; Thank you Mom

4’ x 4’.

Clay tiles reproduced in a plaster mold, hand drawn slip trail designs.

What is it to be held—nurtured—comforted? So much of this is sharp, harsh, bright, painful. The growing, the refining brings hurts we cannot help but face. But where can we lay our head? Weary, exposed, we are chained to our limits, to our dependencies. Where can we rest? Held near to a mother’s bosom, wrapped in well worn cloth. Comforted by the words and body of a dear one. Nurtured and known, safe, at ease. Held.