An Ode To My Wheel

 

At first, I was afraid of you just a little bit. I’d taken classes to learn how to use you, but I wasn’t sure you’d act the same as the other wheels. I mean, everything has its unique rhythm and character. Right? But slowly and quietly with a little soft instrumental music playing, we became friends. 

Sometimes, especially at first, I rushed you a little too fast and, well, the clay slipped off you onto the floor. Shocking, yes. But not your fault, obviously. I had to get to know you and learn to lean into you and trust. When I turned you to the left to center a ball of clay and turned you to the right to shape a cup or bowl, it was magic. 

We made many, many things together. Big bowls and small ones. Teacups and mugs. Even small sculptured “Party Animals” who helped get me through Covid. 

It’s not you, it’s me. 

I still love clay. And I’m still making clay sculpture and vases and other pieces using the slab method. But abdominal surgery made it too painful for me to sit with you and throw. Bending forward and pressing to center just didn’t work the way it used to anymore. 

But still you sat there stalwart, waiting quietly in the garage for me. Ready to move into action the moment I plugged you in. 

You’ve been there for every change I’ve gone through in the last 20 plus years. 

Helping me. Delighting me. Calming me. And most of all giving me a chance to right a wrong that happened all the way back in high school art class: when my ball of clay spun off the wheel and hit the wall behind me. You never did that to me. 

Now it’s time for me to let you go. It’s time for you to move on. It’s time for you to find someone, like me, ok maybe someone with more experience, to turn you on. It’s time for you to help transform chunks of messy mud into beautiful things again. 

Thank you for all the messy, gooey, luscious fun we had together.

Sigh. I’m going to miss you. 

Waiting

 

Today, I’m waiting. I know we all spend a lot of our time waiting. Waiting in lines. Waiting in traffic. Waiting for appointments. Waiting even longer on the phone to make appointments. 

I’m also always waiting on Mother Nature. Clay needs to take its time to dry, to be bisque fired and color added. Then another layer of color is added and another firing. 

Now, I have new ceramic pieces that need to be glaze fired to be finished. But outside the temperature today will be in the 90’s and I don’t need to create any more heat. So I’m waiting. I’ve really had enough heat for the summer, I’m ready for fall. 

Falling leaves and changing colors. 

My hydrangeas are already changing color. The beautiful blues and purples are slowly fading and this year, I’m not sure if they’ll turn that lovely shade of burgundy or fade to white. But right now, I’m enjoying them in their blue/purple loveliness along with the last of my roses. 

I used to hate fall. It meant back to school with lessons and homework. But now, I look forward to the cooler weather and falling leaves. Every year, I wait for a few trees in the park to drop their gorgeous big leaves. I pick them up carefully and take them back to my studio. 

Art from Mother Nature. 

I take these big beautiful leaves and carefully clean them, smooth them out and layer them underneath damp paper towels. I roll out slabs of white clay, carefully lay out a leaf and roll over it to press the leaf into the clay. As I roll, I press veins, edges and even holes into the clay to get all of the wonderful details that I love so much about these tree leaves. 

After I cut them out, they dry slowly under layers of plastic sheeting so they don’t crack. Once they’re dry enough, I bisque fire them. Then, they are washed with a blue/black underglaze I mix up and fired again. Once that’s done, I can glaze fire them. 

It’s a long process. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned working with clay, it’s worth the wait. 

Waiting is not easy. 

Taking the time to let clay or glaze dry

Mother Nature is more patient 

Each season comes in it’s own time

Something I am still learning

Moving Forward

 

  

One step at a time, I’m moving forward into this New Year and this new life. I’m feeling better. I’m eating and enjoying food for the first time in months.  My energy is returning. And the clouds are lifting from my body, mind and soul. Here’s the weird thing: I didn’t even realize how many clouds were hanging in, over and around me. I just thought it was the stress of change and everyday life. 

I was wrong. I was physically sick. I didn’t know it. When I finally got medical coverage, and started to think something might be wrong, I didn’t know what to do or where to go. The medical coverage was a difficult and confusing labyrinth requiring calls to a 1-800 number for pre-approval and the info given was conflicting and confusing. 

Bottom line: I had to wait too long to see a doctor. During the wait, my condition got worse. I’m very grateful to the urgent care doctors, surgeon and nurses. And I’ve very grateful to be well now. 

Picking up the pieces. 

The work in my studio had to sit for many months. There are pieces that were thrown and slab built during the summer and fall. Again, thinking I lacked motivation when I was really ill, they sat on the shelves. 

Now that I’ve recovered and my energy is back, I’ve been happily busy in the studio. New leaf plates got some color, too. Three new Lily Vases got underglazed in red. 

And I had fun painting three new polar bears and a cat. Next on the agenda is a bisque firing. Finally!

Moving with my heart and my hearts. 

I’m grateful to be packing up some heart themed pieces to take and sell at a local gallery. I loved making these heart mugs, teacups, wine cups and candle holders. And I’m hoping they bring color and love into other people’s lives. 

I’m so grateful to have more energy, appetite and strength. 

The grey fog that seemed to hang over me is gone. 

I feel renewed and ready to move forward. 

Putting my heart into my work and life.

Just in time for Valentine’s Day.    

Making and Baking and Moving On

It’s foggy outside making it hard to see the partial solar eclipse but that’s ok. Walking through the park, I can admire it anyway. I love the soft blurry light along side the crisp crescent edges. The park is quiet, even the ducks are silent. It’s calm and cozy beautiful. 

And I realize, as I walk along with Michael and Darby, that it’s all good. It’s a surprising feeling after all the unwanted change, grief, fear and frustration of the last 7 months. But somehow, like the fog, a sense of softness and serenity has enveloped me. Quietly.  Slowly. And without my conscious thought, I’m stepping into a new life. 

Making.

I’m a maker and a dreamer who sees things not just with my eyes, but with my hands. I love color and texture and words. I don’t always know what I’m doing but I do it anyway. I started out painting in watercolor when I was 16 and I fell in love with its flow and softness. Wet into wet watercolor is just so juicy and pure. 

Lately, I’ve been experimenting with using watercolor techniques on clay. I’m not quite there, yet, but I’m enjoying the process. Here’s what came out of the kiln this week. 

I’ve also been playing with small clay animals and angels. Maybe it’s the young grandchildren who fill my life right now that’s inspired these colorful characters. I’m not sure and I don’t think it really matters. They’re fun to make and isn’t that the goal?

Baking.  

It’s that time of year, cool and foggy, when I just love to bake. One of my favorites are Macaroon cookies. But now with all fall weather and misty mornings, I’m craving pumpkin bread. 

Baking up a loaf or two fills my kitchen with warm aromas and my heart with comfort. And what could be better than a warm slice right out of the oven with a freshly brewed cup of tea. 

Moving On.

Life changes and it changes us as well. I’ll admit I struggle with change, even when it’s a good change. My body and mind quiver with anxiety. I lose sleep. Sometimes I gain weight, sometimes I lose weight. And I know we‘ve all been through a lot of changes in the past three years, so you might be going through some of these feelings, too. 

Somehow, like the seasons, I’ve moved onward. It happened so slowly I didn’t even see it. But I feel it now. 

There’s a soft, quietness inside and around me

Wrapping around me like a warm sweater

I’m ok now, it’s saying

Breathe in, smell the fresh pumpkin bread baking

Sip your tea with a happy sigh. 

A New Season

 

It’s not officially Fall, but it feels like it. The breeze is cool. There are clouds in the sky and the temperatures are comfortable, finally. Taking a deep breath in and out, I’m savoring the change.  

It’s been a long, very hot summer and I’m glad to be done with it.

I was overwhelmed with life’s unexpected changes. My husband was laid off. I lost my medical coverage as a result and it took 6 months of bureaucratic nightmares for me to finally get healthcare coverage. All of this caused a lot of anxiety: sleepless nights, weight loss, emotional turmoil. I needed to find some ways to cope with it all. 

So in June, I declared I was taking the summer off. I needed a break physically and emotionally. I read a lot of silly romance novels and mysteries with my feet up resting and repairing my knee. And I did the 3 C’s: clay, crochet and cleaning as much as the very hot weather would allow. 

Dogs, cats, bunnies and fairies. Oh my. 

I didn’t have a plan. I just knew that wedging, rolling and throwing clay helped a little. Even when I was overwhelmed and angry, I made myself put my hands in clay. In the studio, I rolled out cats, dogs, bunnies and little fairies. I let the clay lead me into a safe space away from the stress and fear. 

And these small sculptures just started to appear and multiply. I’ve never made anything like them. But they made me smile and that was enough. So I just kept making them and a few months later, I have dozens. Almost enough to fill my kiln!

Welcoming new feelings and a new season. 

Today, it’s cloudy with a light, cool breeze. Just the right weather to fire up my kiln. It’s been so long since I’ve loaded it up and the biggest surprise was it was filled with new work! Dozens of little animals, some bowls and little plates I made with my granddaughter too. 

My anxiety is easing. The cooler weather is giving me an appetite again. We’re getting over the sadness and shock of our unexpected loss and life change. And embracing a new kind of life we’re both creating together. 

Sometimes life throws you into the unknown 

Floundering in the dark and fear

But then, slowly, the light gets in

A new season gives way to new life

Fall into it. 

Leaning into Life

If you’ve been reading my blog, you’ll know that life has thrown the unexpected my way. Again. It’s been time filled with grief and anxiety. Yet, even with all the changes and bureaucratic nightmares, there are moments of fun and peace. 

Right now, I’m writing by the window. Looking out at a sunny day with a slight cool breeze lifting me up. 

Fun with mud. 

This week, I got out my clay and played. I rolled and stamped. I slipped and joined. I cut new shapes with tiny cookie cutters. Voila! New flower fairies or are they flower angels? I’m not sure yet. That’s ok. What really matters is I had my hands in mud. And it was fun.

The next day, I threw some more mud. I wedged up some porcelain, sat down at my wheel and threw a few bowls. The most wonderful thing about it: I didn’t think. I didn’t worry. I didn’t have any expectations. I just slapped that clay down and the next thing I knew I had 2 bowls. When finished one will be bowl for baby Madden, like the ones I made for Meyer and Cieran. 

Life is a roller coaster. 

I’ve said this before, I know. But it’s so true. What’s also true, I hate roller coasters! And I think we’d all agree, with Covid, supply chain issues, global weather disasters and layoffs, we want off this roller coaster! Now. 

But, it doesn’t work that way, does it? 

So what can you do? Hang on and lean in. 

I’ve been hanging on with books and walks and clay. I’ve been leaning in with family and friends and furry four footers. I’m only a few weeks away from having my medical coverage, so I can lean out a little into the world, soon. 

I don’t know what is going to happen next. 

And that’s a little scary, especially after the last 3 years.

But I’m going to try something new,

Leaning in to life.  

And hoping for good things.