the first container
The first container that humanity had must have been a bowl. Would it be bone, wood, stone, clay, leather? Perhaps it was found in the form of a skull? Who knows if it was a tree bark or the horn of some animal. But before all that, surely, the original container would come in the form of hands joined ephemerally to collect water. It is suggestive to imagine a flowing stream or a fountain emanating and ask ourselves how we would drink with only our body. In addition to the universal act of joining both hands, a certain genuflection would accompany it, evoking gratitude for the gifts. Subsequently, it was possible to identify that original container in an object external to our physiognomy. Because in essence a bowl is that: a container, a container, a container. And what characterizes the bowl that we have in our imagination, compared to the one that we hold in our hands without being so aware of it, is permanence. In addition to being external, beyond our body. This is: external and eternal.
How nice it would be to create something like this every day, shaping the material with my hands to create the shape of a bowl. Wouldn't that make each day something eternal, thus transcending, in a way, the ephemeral of our days? Let's do something nice then; let's make a daily bowl.