Horizons

 

It’s December already and my birthday month. While I’ve grown up sharing my birthday month with my Dad and the holidays, there have been times of resentment. But not anymore. 

I can’t explain it, but it feels good to share in the twinkling lights and special decorations that come in my birthday month. Especially this year. Maybe even more because of this crazy year. I need more light, color and sweets to balance the stress, fear and difficulties. 

Looking at the horizon. 

One of my favorite things to do is sit on the window seat and look out as far as I can see. Watching an eagle fly over the distant trees. Seeing a cat run from one yard to the next. Viewing the progress as a neighbor strings up their holiday lights. Waiting for the clouds to move and let a little sun shine my way. Even at the beach, I could spend all day watching the horizon change. 

This popped up in my horoscope: “You live best as an appreciator of horizons, whether you reach them or not.” Those words from poet David Whyte would be a perfect motto for you to write out on a piece of paper and tape to your mirror for the next 30 years. You, Sagittarians are most likely to thrive by regularly focusing on the big picture. Your ability to achieve day to day successes depends on how well you keep the long range view in mind.”

Messes, order and disorder. 

That’s what I see most of the time. And as a clay artist, I make a lot of mess. This week, I glazed almost 2 dozen teacups and a bowl. I mopped up all the drips and washed up all the tools.

The next day, I loaded and fired up my kiln. Firing is an orderly procedure. I set my timer and turn up each dial from low to medium and high in 2 hour intervals. 

But what I can’t clean up or control are the results of the firing process. I can do everything right at every step, have lovely bisque teacups going in, but what comes out is not always up to me. And I have to admit, I don’t like this part of the process. 

Another quote from my horoscope this week: “To accomplish all the brisk innovations you have a mandate to generate, you must cultivate a deep respect for the messiness of creativity; you must understand that your dynamic imagination needs room to experiment with possibilities that may at first appear disorderly.”

This is my last kiln load for 2020. And I’m hoping, yes I admit, for a lovely kiln load of teacups. But I also know that this year has been full of mess and disorder. 

And still, I hope. 

I may love a scenic horizon but I’ve never felt like a big picture person. Maybe, especially this year, it’s time to start. 

As The Wheel Turns: Distractions.

Life is full of distractions.  Things to do.  People to see.  Places to go.  Add a goal of dedicating yourself to creating new work and life gets even fuller, sometimes to the point of over flow.  Now, don't get me wrong, having an overflow of ideas, taking these ideas from inspiration to a finished pieces of art is a wonderful, exciting thrill ride.  

But sometimes, the ride gets sidetracked.

The road to creation can take many detours.  Some of those detours wind their way to new ideas and back to new creations.  But some of those detours are sharp turns that lead the creative life off course.  Ideas, projects and new pieces get lost.  Along this road, I tend to get busy driving through the traffic of to-do lists, outside pressures or some kind of internal expectations of achievement.  I forget the most important thing in my life: creating.

The sign says stop.

But stopping is one of the hardest things for me to do when I'm driving my busy car.  I want to make it through the yellow lights, pass the slower cars and get there first.  Creating, I know from experience, doesn't work that way.  Putting the peddle to the metal does not get the art work done faster, in fact, it causes more creative crashes than anything else.  And even as I write this, and know this, I still see there's this push inside to drive on, faster, anyway.  But I am learning, finally to stop.  

The way is simple, really.

Routine helps me immensely.  Taking a walk in the park every morning with my sweet dog, Jilly.  Look at the trees budding.  Feel the leaves swaying.  Hear the crows gossiping. Smell the fresh grass and taste the spring air around me.  Bring that outside into my quiet space as I wedge the clay, get out my tools and put down Jilly's bed next to my wheel and let it spin.  Wherever it goes, I go.  Whatever comes out of the clay, I accept.  

With a lump of clay in my hands, there are no distractions.   

Why, a little curious voice asks, do I keep forgetting this simple truth?  Maybe this is just part of my process of living.  So simply: next time I see the distraction detour coming, I need to pick up my clay and follow it instead.

Patience.

It's getting close to one of my biggest shows of the year, (Ceramic Showcase on May 1,2,3 at Portland's Memorial Coliseum) and I'm in a hurry to finish everything up.  But I can't.  Because I work in porcelain.  And if there's one thing I've learned about working in porcelain it's this: don't rush it.

Don't push it.  Be patient.

Patience is not my comfort zone.  I like creation, action and results.  Porcelain, on the other hand, likes calm creation, waiting and slow drying.  But what happens when I have a deadline?  That depends.  

If I get in a hurry-up mindset and throw or build quickly then try to get the piece to dry fast, I get cracks.  The top might topple.  Or the mask flattens out.   If I play with patience and plan ahead, my porcelain pleases me with a solid surface, strength and no cracks. 

Hurry up and wait. That's the true mantra of porcelain.  

Right now, I have several shelves of porcelain pieces drying.  With no show deadline looming, I'd be letting them dry slowly in their own sweet time.  With the show creeping up day by day, I find myself in my studio, standing in front of these shelves, peeking, prying, testing and hoping the pieces are ready for a bisque fire.  

"Today?" I ask the clay.

"Not yet," is the answer.

Truth is I have many good finished pieces.  I have more than enough for the show, right now.  But there are a few of these new pieces I want to bring to the show.  But I also know that if I  rush it, I'll probably lose them in the kiln process.

Faith.  

There is that word of the year.  Again.  Do you have to be patient to have faith?  Or can you have faith and still be impatient?  I don't know.

I do know that porcelain needs its own time to develop.  Maybe we all do.  Maybe I do, too.  Maybe that's why I love working in porcelain.  Ok, but maybe not today.

Sometimes life needs a little redecorating.

​Once again, my home is being redecorated.  As most of us know, home improvement is an ongoing process, a little like life, actually.

There's the better homes and gardens kind of redecorating of your home, rooms or yard. And there's the spiritual retreat kind of redecorating of thoughts, feelings or past events. Maybe one leads to the other. 

My son moved in and out again.  I'm happy to see him moving out into his own adult life.  I'm glad to be able to help him and give him shelter whenever he needs it but I miss him, too. Last time, I packed up his childhood toys.
 
This time, I'm packing away his teenage drum sticks and college graduation robe. Last time, we made it through the re-paint and re-carpet phase only.   This time, we have redecorated and created a new room in our home.  

Here's what it looked after the re-paint and re-carpet.

 















 Here are a few pictures of the before and during process this time around.

 

Here's what it looks like now.  It's still a guy room, but now it's my husband, not my son, who plays his computer games and watches his golf shows in there.

Now, the next room re-do is my daughter's room.  I redecorated it when she moved out the first time and packed away her childhood.  Then, she moved back in.  When she moved out again and got married, I did the re-paint and re-carpet but nothing else really changed much.  

This time, after seeing the re-creation of my son's room for my husband, I think, maybe my daughter's old room needs a little re-creation, too.  Especially, since my married daughter and her husband are now moving out of town into an exciting new phase of their lives but will be needing a room for two here at home to use over holidays.  So, the childhood twin bed made into a daybed last time, is going this time along with the small flip top desk, wicker table and chest of drawers.  

What will the room look like this time?  I'm not sure.  But I do know it's time for a change. 

Sometimes life needs a little redecorating.  Sometimes it needs a lot.  It can be an inside job or an outside one.  Sometimes it's both.