Colorway is a monthly essay for paid subscribers, featuring deeper dives into color in the Odette Press collection, with more practices for taking care. Pairing each reflection on color with personal meaning, each essay features additional resources: recipes, playlists, reading lists, and prompts to connect with each color of note. Today, an essay on earth, vessels of memory, and Clay Red. Read to the end for prompts to write along with, and head over to Odette Press for 10% off Clay journals.
I was a kid then, digging my hands into the sandbox. It was cold sand, gray day, suburbs in Michigan. Hands as half moons, palms turned to scoops, fingers determined to unearth the dirt, digging up layer after layer after layer. Down past grass surface, soil, sand, past the friction of boredom, body crouched down and reminiscent of a boulder, under fingertips and gentle force, I’d feel as granules of sand gave way to smooth earth, I’d dig until I found treasure pulling up handfuls of clay as malleable potential.
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