The last time I updated this blog, I mentioned my newfound love of Rwandan ceramic products. To demonstrate my affinity, I ditched imported stuff in favor of locally made ceramic ware.

I am writing this from the garden of El Vista Café. As I sip some tea amid a social interaction with an anonymous friend, I think about the transformative journey of the cups, saucers and pots placed on my table.

In my last post, I mentioned the upcoming trip to one pottery studio in the Southern Province. During the proposed tour, I will roll up my sleeves and make my hands dirty. The hands-on experience will enable me to learn more about the craft.

Meanwhile, let me pen down random thoughts inspired by the beauty of the cup I am holding. Before the finely polished mug came into being, someone visualized it. Like every thing else, its genesis is a conceived idea.

The raw materials used to make the vessels containing my tea are readily available. When the artisan behind their formation needed to procure some clay, she looked no further. She was seating on it.

Maybe, before we go to Mars to scramble for nothing, we should look underneath our feet and figure out what we can do with what we are standing on. The grass is not greener elsewhere.

If you thought life is hard here, wait til you face the unbearable economic burden of importing oxyg.en from another planet. And how the hell shall we be able to move from point A to point B without the force of gravity? Is there arable land in Mars? What about water sources? Does it rain over there?

Never mind. I am just writing down whatever my wandering mind stirs. Forget about the Mars part. On a serious note though, my magical pot brought to the table more than tea.