Cerridwen

By a lake in the mountains of Wales, the story goes, lived Cerridwen: sorceress, mother, keeper of the cauldron. For a year and a day she brewed Awen, the essence of inspiration, meant for her son. Three drops splashed onto the thumb of the boy who stirred the pot, and in an instant he held all the wisdom she had brewed.

The chase that followed is one of the great shape-shifting tales of Europe: he became a hare, she a greyhound; he a fish, she an otter; he a grain of wheat, she a black hen, and she swallowed him. Nine months later she bore him anew: Taliesin, the greatest bard of Britain. Cerridwen is the goddess of transformation: of the dark time before the change, and of the price of wisdom.

In the kiln as in the cauldron, transformation happens through fire. The Cerridwen sculpture is hand-built from clay, a ceramic one of a kind.