Arts & Poetry

EDITH HEATH: A Life in Clay

Founder and Designer of Heath Ceramics, Edith Heath, taught art at Presidio Hill School from 1942-1945 and is the subject of a special exhibition at the Oakland Museum of California until October 30, 2022.

Trailblazer. Rebel. Revolutionary. Discover the story of Edith Heath, founder and designer of Heath Ceramics. Heath transformed the ceramics industry, creating dinnerware from California clay for “Sunday best” and everyday use. Driven by the power of good design, and a commitment to her craft, Heath’s vision continues to live on through her stoneware and tile over 70 years later. Durable, not delicate, simple, yet stylish, Heath Ceramics is an icon of American design. This is not a traditional ceramics or craft exhibition - it combines historic objects, photographs, documentary video and personal memorabilia to showcase Heath’s legacy and story.

Learn more at www.museumca.org/exhibit/ edith-heath-life-clay

ARTS & POETRY

The Morning By Téa Theodosopoulos ‘22

The morning was cold Fog obstructed any belief that the sky had once been blue Or maybe, it was an ash cloud From Yellowstone’s super volcano constantly on the brink of eruption My eyes could not see a soul The soaking field had yet to contain a fresh print Or maybe there was a night call For all but one and then I was alone while the others fled I heard a rhythmic crashing Like a far away landslide repeating its destruction till our world falls apart Or maybe, it really was the end All the hills and cliffs, beaches and dunes, mountains and valleys They were just letting go And this world that was my home No longer could block the cold I thought I needed far away from my soul Maybe it’s natural, a part of getting old But maybe my world was falling apart Like how trees burst to flames and there the ocean used to lay The morning was cold and desolate and loud But if the world had been ending, I wouldn’t be too sad You see, I had forgotten those silly regrets from my sixth and seventh and then, eighth grade self I had lost all the worries I had for what to do when I reached the horizon I was still and ready for this journey I’d been handed If the world could end at dawn Imagine the splendid possibilities for dusk and noon Constant reminders tell me that In the everything, everything is okay But that morning wasn’t the end; it simply was the start of my day