Hello July!

I can’t believe summer is rolling by quite so fast. Roses are blooming. Tomatoes and zucchini  are ripening. And the smell of lavender out in the yard fills the air. It is luscious.  

To add more summer fun, our neighborhood had a small 4th of July parade. When my children were little we had a big parade complete with a Mom flag drill team, Dads with lawnmowers, kids with decorated bikes and wagons. And the local fire department truck leading the way. This year, new neighbors put together a short parade with a firetruck too! It was so fun to see my ‘kids’ and grandkids having fun marching through the neighborhood once again. 

Madden Mondays and Meyer Friday. 

Every Monday, little Madden comes to play with us. He goes for a walk around the lake while he naps. He rolls on his blanket, grabs his toys and giggles. He takes his bottle and plays some more and naps. He’s a delightful, little guy.

I used to watch my granddaughter, Meyer on Mondays until she started kindergarten. I loved it. And Meyer and I had some wonderful times: baking muffins, playing with play dough and painting in the studio. This last week, we had 2 days to play! We went to the park. And played in the studio with real clay making plates from porcelain clay. So much fun!

Slow clay. 

I said I was taking the summer off so I didn’t set up any expectations for my studio work. I let go of my old routines and process. Things sat. And I didn’t do much of anything for awhile. 

But a strange thing began to happen: small animals started showing up on my studio shelves. Little flower characters popped up. And a few penguins waddled in to visit. 

I just went in to play around and now, look what I found!

Life is full of surprises. Some good. Some not. One thing I’m learning is to let the feelings flow and take the time I need to take care of myself. Reading and resting. Walking a bit slower while my knee heals. And letting the clay play itself out into whatever form it wants. 

Taking the summer off isn’t what I’d thought it would be. 

It’s not boring or lifeless

It’s calm and restful. 

And surprisingly creative and fun. 

Quiet. Please.

As a child, these words posted in my local library brought peace. I remember reading them gave me a sense of safety and shelter and calm. And I know in my heart and soul that is exactly what I need right now. 

In July, the roof of my house was ripped off and completely replaced. We’ve lived in this home we designed for almost 30 years, so it was time for a new roof. While I looked forward to the new roof, I had no idea what it would be like to live through the transition from old to new. It was a VERY loud and messy process. 

In September, the front siding of our house was ripped off and completely replaced along with a small section on one side. After that was done, the entire house was re-painted including trim and the front door. Again, it was a loud and messy process. 

New strength. 

I love my new roof, new skylights and new vents. I love the strong, updated siding. I love the new paint color, new window trim and bright red door. But most of all, I love feeling even more securely sheltered in the home I designed and built three decades ago. 

Getting here has not been without its bumps and bruises. Siding and skylights were not in our renovating plans. But what I’m learning, especially this year, is plans change. And sometimes they change for the better. 

Creating challenge. 

With all the noise and mess and disruption, it was hard to find time, space and quiet to work in my studio or on my wheel. Glaze firing was put on hold due to air quality warnings and high outside temperatures. Yes, it was frustrating and I’ll admit scary. Because, my lifeline and connection to calm is creating. 

So I painted a new bowl and two new birds.  I re-arranged my studio. And I waited as calmly as I could, which I’ll admit included pacing, grouching and some unneeded snacking. But last week, before house painting began, I did manage to throw a few teacups. I made a new leaf platter. And this week, during the trim painting of the house, I trimmed and pull some handles. 

Balancing the see saw. 

I remember long ago, an expert described life balance, not as a balance beam, but as a see saw. It is so simple and so true. 

Life is not a straight, narrow path but a thrilling ride of quick ups and downs with short stops in the middle. Studio work helps me balance and yet, it is a constant seesaw ride: good weather for clay to dry vs (not) too hot, studio time vs marketing and selling.  

Then, of course, there is social media, politics, pandemics, forest fires, bad air quality and roofing and painting and 2020. 

 

What a see saw to live on everyday. A challenge that requires creativity and strength. And most of all, for me, a little quiet. Please. 

Consumed by Clay: Passion or obsession?

Pots got trimmed and the wheel got cleaned before the dishes. Bowls were thrown before I showered. The cat had to bump my studio door to remind me it was her dinnertime. The dog barked at nothing to get my attention away from the wheel. Tea and coffee got cold and forgotten. Dinner was leftovers. Again.

Clay seems to be taking over my studio, my day and my life. I don’t know why. Is it passion or obsession?


I’m not a newbie to art or the art process. I’ve taken art classes for 4 decades or more. I’ve made a lot of art, paintings, pastels, collage, beadwork, fiber pieces, copper repousse’, mixed media sculptures and masks. But I have to say that I’ve always been able to leave them, sometimes for weeks at a time. I used to call this the ‘percolation’ process. I always thought that in order to have a good piece, I needed to leave it alone for a while. And the process has worked for me.

Not anymore.

I just can’t seem to do that with clay. I’m organized. I make lists and plans and schedules. Even when I plan, that today, I will get to that cleaning, errand, email, website…all of a sudden it’s 5 pm and I would, but you see, my hands are covered with clay.

My writing that was taking up most of my time last year, is moving at a snail’s pace. Even my beloved blog posts have gotten further and further apart. Because, well, I just have to get to that piece before it gets too dry. Or I just need to add this leaf or handle or texture. Really, I’ll just be a minute…then I’ll run that errand, get the mail, do the laundry. Honest. I’ll check my email, read my favorite blogs, post on Facebook.


And I will answer the phone. Honest.

I do really want to hear from you, but, well, there’s this bowl, cup, platter, vessel or face that just really needs a little water or maybe a little trimming… Maybe you should leave a message…