"On the 28th of April, 1919, Patience Worth wrote a poem entitled "The Potter": Whether this picture of the oriental potter, putting his fancy into his bowl, suggested the theme of this book, or whether the theme was already in mind and this but a casual expression, I am unable to say. Two weeks after this was written Mrs. Alex. B. Smith, of Los Angeles, California, came to the home of the Curran's to spend a few months in the study of the writings of Patience Worth, attracted by the personality of the invisible poet, and in response to this affectionate interest Patience, shortly after her arrival, said to her: "Ah, but the love-tendin' we shall be at, dame. I say thee shall have a wonderwork o' thine ain." A few days later Mrs. Curran spelled out the strange word "Aesol," and Patience said to Mrs. Smith: "Tis a whit o' thy wonderwork." Then she showed Mrs. Curran a picture of an old man seated at a rude potter's wheel the axle of which turned within a socket of clay, the wheel being moved by hand. Above it a curious water receptacle fashioned of skin was suspended from a stick which from time to time the potter touched, spilling a few drops upon the clay pot which he was molding upon the wheel. His beard was thin and pointed, and his countenance gave the impression of wisdom and kindness. Upon his head was a coarse turban and he wore nothing else but a clout. A naked child stood beside him with wondering eye, seeming to be questioning him. "'Tis the measurin' o' Youth against Age," said Patience, but gave no further information. Some days after this she began the dialogue and continued its dictation with but little diversion to other compositions until it was completed. The picture of the potter presented to Mrs. Curran needs some explanation. Pictures accompany all the communications of Patience Worth and sometimes, as in this case, without verbal communications. They form a very remarkable feature of this phenomenon. As the letters come into her consciousness the scenes depicted, the persons speaking or described, or the symbols of poetry, are pictured to her eyes, in miniature but vividly. It is as if she were looking upon a moving picture, a microscopic but distinct panorama of the life presented in all its colors. Yet there is no loss of normal consciousness or of normal vision. One may be looking out of a window and seeing all that is within range of the eye, yet the thought may be upon some distant scene, and that scene be within the mind's eye at the same time as the physical one; or one may be reading a book and seeing, mentally, the scenes and characters suggested in the printed words. Such duality of vision is common enough to everyone. But this of Mrs. Curran is different. These pictures are not the product of her thought. They are not suggested by the words coming from her, although she understands the words and comprehends their meaning as they come." - Casper S. Yost