I have been charting the progress of a piece of work which has taken on the decisions for its own destiny.
I know how this story will end but what happens in the meantime depends on Chris Whitty, Boris Johnson, Sir Patrick Vallance, The WHO, my kiln... and many more. I will just follow the trail and beaver away at this project until it is all over, however many years it takes. And then, BOOM! The Corona Virus C-19 came to my attention at a problematic time, when I had to travel. I had to come and go several times across borders and the flights were al but guaranteed. There were cancelations; Once home I fretted about the next journey, but felt safe; once abroad, I fretted about returning home as quickly as possible for fear of being locked up in a place where I had no support and no health cover. Somehow I managed to do it just in time until the first lockdown happened. Then I sat down to plan my response. The virus was centre stage. Looked gorgeous on TV and starred every evening on the news, glorious in gaudy colours but shrouded in a dark mystery. Many were referring to it in anthropomorphic terms: the virus loves the cold weather; the virus thrives in enclosed spaces; it needs to be washed away thoroughly from surfaces and hands, face and pets... it will be defeated when we have herd immunity... So I latched on to the idea that it grabs hold of cells by spikes and penetrates within, there to multiply and wreak havoc. When I first made it, this afflicted handful of hardened mud, it was a rosy piece with a curving wrap around, nothing much to it. I knew that in time it would become a lot more elaborate but I didn't know, when I glazed it with a soft cream, a hazy jade and an indifferent oatmeal, that the kiln would wildly overfire and endow my hesitant production with a violent countenance, a malicious stare and an aura of fire and brimstone. I like to respect the wishes of the kiln. I proceeded with my plan to furnish the basic form with the news and views, opinion and rage, new variants and new knowledge as time went by.
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