Daffodil The Dragon
This pottery piece actually chokes me up a bit. Silly, I know, but I see myself in the lumpy sweet dragon peering into a reflecting mirror, and realize that even at age 60, life is full of introspection. And trying to change for the better. Some introspection is healthy, some toxic, and avoiding the toxic takes work. The pottery piece also stores memories, new but treasured all the same.
This past Thanksgiving did not include my sons and their families. It was hard to not have them here, though in both cases, it was clearly the right choice. So my local daughter made sure to spend time with us, and I was grateful for her kindness. She arrived Wednesday morning to learn to bake pie, a ludicrous situation as both her brothers have whipped up pies for years. Including one son using a farm-share pumpkin to make a fresh pumpkin pie during college! Her, not so much. I had no idea making pie dough was a textural issue, but I have learned it is, and realize it is a texture I actually enjoy. Her, not so much. When baking was done, daughter wanted to stop at an estate sale in a town nearby.
The day before Thanksgiving was an odd day for an estate sale, and we were amused by the event, chatting about things and people we spotted. I found this handmade pottery piece and immediately thought of a daughter in law. I have virtually no idea why I associate dragons with her, but suspect it is the close jump from dragon to phoenix. The phoenix image I do understand as their dog’s name is Fawkes, the phoenix from Harry Potter. I made my son and his bride an engagement quilt depicting a phoenix, done in her favorite colors. The original paper piecing pattern was 12” and I wanted it much larger. Thankfully Juli Weber at Little Fort Media in Waukegan (https://www.facebook.com/LittleFortMedia/) is a whiz at figuring these things out, and the resulting quilt is close to 3 feet tall. Phoenix are mythical birds, known for their loyalty, intelligence, and bravery. They regenerate themselves by bursting into flames and rising from the ashes. A powerful metaphor for life and marriage, certainly, and quite appropriate for their wonderful Malinois rescue pup.
My estate sale dragon is signed “Tyler”, though unclear if that is a first or last name. Guessing it is from the 1970s due to the coloring, but that is only a hunch. It is a handmade pottery plate with a hole cut out of the middle to insert the mirror. The charming dragon sits by the side, much like Narcissus looking at his reflection in the water. The dragon is made of a different textured clay from the plate, formed in lumps and built much like those drippled sand castles I made as a child in the 1970s. The dragon’s face is remarkably sweet, and I sense a female dragon. The glazing on the plate makes it seem she sits on a grassy bank by some water.
The Greek myth of Narcissus is not a charming tale, and lent its name to the psychologically unhealthy Narcissist Personality Disorder. Sadly I have a great deal of family experience with that disorder. A handsome youth, Narcissus never found love, leaving many broken-hearted women and men in his wake. Eventually, he spotted his reflection in a pool of water, and fell in love with himself. “Naturally, this one-way relationship went nowhere, and Narcissus, unable to draw himself away from the pool, pined away in despair until he finally died of thirst and starvation. Immortality…was assured, though, when his corpse…turned into the flowers which, thereafter, bore his name.” (https://www.worldhistory.org/Narcissus/). The Romans adopted the myth, and it was very popular in their art, including 50 wall paintings at Pompeii alone. Interestingly the narcissi plants are poisonous, and the name is roughly translated from ancient Greek to mean “numbness”. A daffodil plant is part of the Narcissi genus and its charming appearance in spring offers us all a route out of the numbness of winter. So my feeling about my introspective Daffodil Dragon is that she is looking inward in search of a path forward, focusing on the beauty of life to help.
Unfortunately for daughter in law, when the dragon came home, she wandered into our dressing room, jumping up to land on the brown walls and settled into place. She is charming, and makes me pause when I see her. These last few weeks have been tough for me, and I feel both sadness and disconnection. While I do connect with many people, that does not seem to stop my brain from diving deep into the pond of woe. I am working, with hubby’s input, to recognize my thoughts are not always my friend. Being mindful takes a ridiculous amount of energy, and it is always easier to slip back into woe is me. I see the little Daffodil Dragon in the morning and evening. And I remember my children, the loves and lives they have and the luck I have to live such a complex and rewarding life. I promise Daffodil will eventually find her way to Colorado to take up residence with the phoenix. For now she is helping me smile.