It took only 30 days from open house to final closing and handing over the keys. The house even went through a short bidding war. The buyers were so happy and eager to move in. We donated some furniture to the botanical gardens pack rat sale and my first Skutt 818 kiln to a newbie potter. I then wrapped up my vegetable container garden consisting of one "Better Boy" tomato plant and headed north. We made it safely here, my kilns, my pottery wheel and ceramics. My buddy "Better" now sits out on the picnic table next to my temporary outdoor studio.
black-tailed deer hanging out by future studio
Building the indoor studio got delayed because the one acre lot next to us came up for sale and we bought it. My thoughts ran into building a tiny home-studio on wheels (no property tax increase.) Then I realized I really need a proper studio with a solid floor and a sink. A small wood stove in the corner for those 300 days per year of cool mornings. The south wall...a garage door with glass so I can roll it up on sunny days or more likely, foggy days. When it's down the natural light will stream in.
Shirley Poppies glorious in the morning fog
I don't know if I would get any work done. Maybe it will turn out too perfect. I won't want to mess it up with clay bits and glaze making. Perhaps working in my imaginary studio is more fun on paper and in the mind. When all is said and done, all I need is a little space, a work table, a bag of clay and a small kiln.
Earthenware and porcelain, terra sigillata, engobes, glazes
Half of me is filled with bursting words and half of me is painfully shy. I crave solitude yet also crave people. I want to pour life and love into everything yet also nurture my self-care and go gently. I want to live within the rush of primal, intuitive decision, yet also wish to sit and contemplate. This is the messiness of life---that we all carry multitudes, so must sit with the shifts. We are complicated creatures, and ultimately, the balance comes from this understanding. Be Water. Flowing, flexible and soft. Subtly powerful and open. Wild and serene. Able to accept all changes, yet still led by the pull of steady tides. It is enough.
~Victoria Erickson(writer of Edge of Wonder: Notes from the Wildness of Being)
Ceramics: Lana Wilson, Jenni Ward, Gregory Roberts, Ashley Kim, Bill Geisinger, Wyatt Amends and (: me :)
Glass: Ellen Blakeley, Candice Gawne, Reddy Lieb, Nanci Schrieber-Smith, Studio Bel Vetro, Matthew Szösa
My studio is all packed up and heading north. So far, this unpredictable
year of the Monkey, has had some crazy days, weeks and months. It is
hard to keep a house in order, work on work and keep calm. Things (you
know, those this 'n that things) kept popping up making confetti of my need
to-do lists. It is surprising how much one can do without little
sleep. Maybe not perfect, maybe not on the mark, but done. We are
selling and moving finally. This house looks so brand spanking new and clean it makes my eyes water. I mean, shine. The
lilac I planted 15 years ago finally bloomed. It never bloomed in all
those years. I never had the heart to take it out. Every year its leaves would unfurl with dark green perfection. It
made the nearby butterfly bush's leaves looked very shabby. In all honesty, the leaves were prone to curl and shed. Leaving bare twigs and branches. Looking very unattractive. That said, this butterfly bush without
shame and hesitance, shot out huge majestic purple blooms every year. I could not bear to uproot that tattered butterfly bush, not
because of its magnificent blooms, but because it reminded me that beauty waits...
I planted that
lilac the year a family member took her life. And this year, on the
anniversary of her death, I dreamed of her. We
walked down to the beach and she wanted to drink the sea water. I knew
she was here for her mother. I woke and felt uneasy. Later we got an
early morning phone call and knew. Two days later I noticed the lilac