Unframed for now. Will be framed soon.This image came to my mind when I took myself back to a time when fire was the only heat and light known for night and watch keep. I pretended I was always delegated fire chief. Because I liked the stars at night. Keeping fire watch deep into the night. As I have many a night in real time/life. Haha, jk back to the story…A huge pottery I had made sat just outside the doorway on top of our stone table. It had some grains in it cooling and drying for storage. Dry storage.The light from the fireplace that I watched over switched the surface of clay pottery many times over. Changing it into patterns. As if it were speaking to me. In my dream. All night we sit talking to each other. The pottery and I. Through the doorway. The light from the hot coals that I tend to and its reflection reaching the pottery. Telling me of a past time that I had forgotten. Time can heal. A quiet secret only wispered. I had known the whole time. I kept the coals burning as long as I could because I finally understood. But they went out as the sun started to rise.