eggs and egg shaped items

For some reason I am drawn to eggs. There is something about the shape and symmetry of them that I find appealing. One of my favorite artists, Sonja Blomdahl, evokes this feeling as well. Although not necessarily egg-shaped, the vessels have a voluptuous and, if I may say, erotic shape.

I'm also recently, inexplicably, drawn toward eggplants. There is something about the shape combined with the deep color that makes me want to pick one up and feel the cool, smooth skin.

Big J, who is a glass artist, really feels that people should be allowed to pick up glass art, and I completely agree. There is something about the medium that draws people in and almost begs to be held. The texture, most often, is smooth, and while the glass is initially cool it warms to the touch. Touching a glass vessel allows the one to experience at least a minute part of what the artist experiences in creating the piece as (s)he shapes it with wet paper or a wooden block. It is nearly inconceivable to think that wet paper is the only thing between the artist's hand and molten glass. And perhaps that is one reason is continues to draw us in.

But back to the eggs. Eggs are symbols of new life and growth. Dreams of eggs can often point to a person's creativity. The egg, for some species, is essentially the womb. It provides nourishment and protection for the developing embryo. We often marvel at the development that takes place within the uterus and look at the growing belly of a woman as, some would say, the miracle of life. But rarely do we think of eggs in the same way, when in fact that is exactly what it is. Think of the fledgling robin developing within the tiny blue eggs, or the thousands of salmon within eggs barely as big as a fingertip.

What if we could look at the world and see each thing from it's earliest existence? Would that change how we cared for the environment and each other?