Italian jug, 1 May 2020

A cold bright wind today, snow on the mountains. I shopped in the Coles shopping mall in the next suburb and the place was abandoned, all the shops were closed except for the supermarket. Even the whirligig cars for children to ride in were immobilised in black plastic. Sitting far apart with sad faces, people waited at the bus stop. Thinking of small communities I woke with the image of this jug in my head and the village where I saw pots like this being made, a tiny poor place called Grottaglie in south Italy. Every family was involved in some aspect of making the glazed earthenware. Every object has its biography and I bought this pot for a few lire because I loved its trefoil spout and the yellow flower with tendrils. It has an echo of much older ceramics from this area, once Magna Graecia. A jug is for pouring, and I thought, looking at the people I saw today persisting with daily tasks, we look alright from the outside still with some flowers and tendrils, but in reality we are all poured out, there's nothing much left inside.

Diana Wood Conroy 'Italian jug' watercolour on Arches paper 15 x 21 cm, 1 May 2020.