I’ve had this Raku vessel since the mid 1970’s when I purchased it from ceramic artist, Kerri Chapman, at the 57th Street Art Fair in Chicago’s Hyde Park. Filled with a fragrant potpourri of cinnamon sticks, tonka beans, and various other dried leaves and spices, it has graced many a shelf since then. For the past thirteen years it has been in the company of other art pieces high on our fireplace mantle. But all good things come to an end and it died with a loud crash. I suspect it was Cooper who knocked it off the mantle, but since I wasn’t in the living room when it happened, and aside from surmising the guilty look on his face, I have no way of knowing for sure if he or Jackson propelled the Raku vessel in flight. It was one of my favorite art pieces and being one-of-a-kind, it is irreplaceable. Oddly, I don’t feel distraught over its demise. Rather, I feel fortunate to have enjoyed it for such a long time. As I’ve grown older, I realize it’s just “stuff” and that life itself and everything we own is on borrowed time. Nothing is forever and the familiar saying; “You can’t take it with you” becomes more apparent with each passing day. I’m saving all the pieces and with the aid of epoxy resin clay perhaps I can transform the shards into a work of art. Had this happened two months ago, I would have used the pieces in my vanity mirror project instead of seashells. Oh, well…as Roseanne Rosannadanna said, “It’s always something!”