I found myself writing to a friend saying, “Not a week ago I was telling a friend that nothing would make me happier that having everything I owned packed efficiently in itemized labelled boxes. Then I promptly received my fire tower contract stating I start on April 23. I thus find myself relinquishing a week of my psychotic busy mad dash to my potting end date and am happy that I gave into temptation and packed up all my records and books. The end does always creep up on me and frankly my ceramic ambitions are so inhumanly (and inhumanely) unobtainable that I find myself giggling at the self-inflicted sleepless weeks of work to come! (and at the cyclical nature of my repeated surprise when similar deadlines continue to loom!). ”
Every word rings true! I am a night owl to the core and so found myself pleasantly up til 4am trimming bowls. Every wonder what that entails?
…This is how we trim a bowl (that was sung to the tune of the wheels on the bus go round and round… an unfortunate tune to have in one’s head while trimming and watching the endless twirl of the pottery wheel, but still a little charming):
This are the last batch of bowls I will trim here in Nelson. My fifth summer of solitude and foray back into academia will drag me away from this studio for an indefinite amount of time, a year, two? A week of NCECA and two weeks of firing, packing and moving lays ahead. Who knows when opportunity with give rise to trim again… who knows?! With this post I feel a stir of melancholy as I know I am on the cusp of something good and the abrupt halt of its exploration gives me pang of sadness. I keep telling myself there is time enough for all. What do you think of the bowls?