I painted a box. Its my new obbsession these days - painting pottery at one of these places that supplies the pottery and paint, and you just paint away. When I first began, I stared at the box with no idea of what I wanted to do with it.

Then, I had an inspiration. I would dedicate it to Glenn. Its purpose would be as an object to pour all my emotions for him into. I didn’t have a clue what I would paint, but I had a poem that I wrote a few years ago that I would write on the inside.

So, I began painting, on the top - the surface - was a beautiful landscape with mountains, and clouds and a setting sun. It was amazing.

I poured my soul, and all residual energies for Glenn into the bottom of the box. I was calm and meditative while painting. Whimsical strokes of energized paint.

Then the bottom failed. The paint cracked and I had to paint it all over again. Then I went to write the poem, the most important symbol of what this box meant to me. The writing failed. I had to scratch that off and redo the bottom - giving up on the poem. Depressed that I wouldn’t be able to include it in the box. I decided to sponge paint over it. It didn’t work. I had to paint over that. I was nearly in tears over the struggle to paint this box.

I realize that the box was beginning to reflect its own purpose. The energies I was putting into painting it were reflecting off the box itself. Complete failure. It was nothing like I had planned.

I thought, “No problem, its just telling me that things, including what you wanted with Glenn, never really turn out the way you want…deal with it.” I did, I let go of the box, and any hopes of it being what I wanted. I stopped caring about the outcome and just rejoicing in how fun it was to paint. Besides, the landscape on top looked perfect. Still, there was no poem - the main focul point of the piece.

I got the box back yesterday after it was glazed and fired. I fell in love with the finished product instantly. I couldn’t imagine the poem being there. I didn’t want it there. I liked it better than what I had originaly planned.

So, after all was said and done. The box served its purpose. It took in all my energies towards Glenn and spat back a message. Things never turn out as you plan, but maybe, just maybe, they’ll turn out even more beautiful. Just different.