create

clay earwear with bone

 

sculpt.

from clay.

wearable art.

 

clay and bleu glass by michelle bernard

 

it’s all art, isn’t it?

 

the jewel.

doorway is clay and glass by michelle bernard

the BODy.

the life.

ringing bleu by michelle bernard

create.

take stuff away.

clay earwear by michelle bernard

or add.

green lass and clay by michelle bernard

 

 

 

clay and wood beads by michelle bernard

 

step back and see how it looks.

put it on.  how does it feel?

 

drift by michelle bernard

you can always start again.

you never finish.

we all start again.

michelle bernard wearing jasmine

we’re all wearing art.

 

◎ dedicated to my friend.

 

the jewels are all hand-sculpted from stoneware clay with recycled glass.

http://www.sculptedbybernard.com

i dreamt

 I dreamt I died the other night.

 Best believed I wanted to wake up.  

 Couldn’t.

 

It was the kind of dream that I could feel.  It was real.

I was sentenced to my death by someone [ can’t remember who, why, nothing].

 

The process of my dying meant that 

I would throw up in a white plastic garbage bin until all of my innards were puked out.  Then I would grow tired, fall asleep, and never wake up.

I did throw up, tons (in the dream). 

Someone (cloudy in memory) nursed me during all this puking, so 

I wasn’t alone.  

One of my dogs was there.  Cloudy.

 

I fought to stay awake, though I could see my innards filling the garbage bin.  

“I am close to the end”

 

Sleepy.  Oh no.

 Sleepy.

I thought about my life, what I didn’t do, what I thought was important, what I was afraid to go for and take… I wanted to go back in time and get it done.  To fear less. 

 

I fought the sleep hard.  harder.

all through the night  ➧  barfing and lifting my lids with all my strength to avoid succumbing to the sleep.

 

Morning.

I was awake.

No puking.

I didn’t die.  

The ( whomever person who pronounced my death sentence) had told me there was no way I’d make it to morning.

 

But, I did.

 And I didn’t have anymore of the sickness.
 

 

I woke up ( in real life) and smiled all frickn day.  

I’m alive!  I’m alive.  I love this place!  I love myself.  I love, love, love dammit.

 

I am not finished.  

 

Thank you for another day. 

 

It all matters.  I am alive.