Read/Listen: Food, A Love Story/

I am enjoying this account of Jim and Food. Real and insightful and totally relatable.

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“What are my qualifications to write this book? None really. So why should you read it? Here’s why: I’m a little fat. If a thin guy were to write about a love of food and eating I’d highly recommend that you do not read his book.”

Bacon. McDonalds. Cinnabon. Hot Pockets. Kale. Stand-up comedian and author Jim Gaffigan has made his career rhapsodizing over the most treasured dishes of the American diet (“choking on bacon is like getting murdered by your lover”) and decrying the worst offenders (“kale is the early morning of foods”). Fans flocked to his New York Times bestselling book Dad is Fat to hear him riff on fatherhood but now, in his second book, he will give them what they really crave—hundreds of pages of his thoughts on all things culinary(ish). Insights such as: why he believes coconut water was invented to get people to stop drinking coconut water, why pretzel bread is #3 on his most important inventions of humankind (behind the wheel and the computer), and the answer to the age-old question “which animal is more delicious: the pig, the cow, or the bacon cheeseburger?”

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20697471-food?ac=1&from_search=true


Food as health and the American ideal of skinny is skwed and endless. We must be body positive and happy America has to change. Listen to this episode.

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http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/589/tell-me-im-fat

Issue: Why use handmade pots?

As an potter sometimes it feels like the biggest part of the job is convincing people that pottery is worth it. Worth that $30, worth their interest, worth a wee bit of time. But it isssss worth it. This worth can only be found out by use, by a personal a self-made history with an object. By satisfaction over time. I am a pleasure seeker (and finder thank goodness) but we live in a world of empty self gratification, an instant gratification, when we can have anything we want quite readily. But heck, no one realllly knows what they want! How boring of an existence to think you know what you want, and that you  get it- living in a closed little self made framework (Ak, hem I only do this four months of the year). It sounds quite dissatisfying in time. The gratification that handmade pottery offers can indeed be instant- you can be instantly attracted to a mug say. But that relationship is one that needs time to be truly satisfying. It dawns on me now that our relations with pots aren’t thattttt different then with lovers, perhaps it is no wonder that parts of pots are names after sensual body parts: lip, neck, hip. But, I digress. If I can draw parallels between the thoughtfully hand crafted pot and a lover, how is it that other’s can’t? Is it really an inanimate object? No, it is an extension of another’s intent, vitality and purpose. Personification is inherent in the making, it is a good pot. How much money, mind power and times has gone into that human obsession of mating? And if a pot could be akin to a love, it is worth some time. Birdie Boone has adapted a mind map exemplifying allllll that a handmade pot might have to offer! Goodness gracious she is proactive! It is sort of the best thing I’ve seen in a while. Gratification alllll around!bubble chart jpg.jpg

Studio: Decals and a little love.

Sometimes things just need a little love, sometimes it just takes a little more time. Trimming a plate or bowl could teach you everything you need to know about life. Is that an overstatement? Perhaps when paired with a song a life lesson could be completed. There is a line in a song that makes me feel understood “I could never steal the sadness you feel when your changing you mind”. Am I changing my mind all the time?  Well you ought not change your mind in the middle of trimming and if you so you ought to commit to it. A wise lady just told me you can’t have it all at once- a pot can’t be it all, full of imagery and simple, thick and light, thin and thick. The problem with life is that it is always in flux, none of this stagnent being that you get from a pot in the end. I’ve been wishing I could be in two places at once these days. In Australia and in the Kootenays, driving across Canada and in the studio (Marie, when are we putting that wheel on top of the station wagon and driving and driving?). Once you commit it is alright and that line can be lean and elegant, that foot be thick and sturdy, just take the time to make it so. In my case, there is always a third chance to give a little more love, a third firing: Decals. Which is the decal and which is the photocopy?

Anyways, It has been a busy busy week in the studio, Three firings and lots of throwing…. I am off to Victoria on Sunday to scope out some galleries and places. Then back for another week and a half to finishing up the making and completing. To roam the Canadian roads before heading up north for a summer alone with my thoughts.

Give a little love.

Artist: Lucie Rie

I find today a good day to talk about Lucie Rie. I feel she was a romantic. I am not sure if this is because the woman (Pamela Nagely Stvenson, a romantic in her own right) who introduced me to Lucie Rie’s work, talked about her with so much joy. I smirk in awe just thinking about Pam talking about Lucie making pots through a war with few materials- always elegant sharp pots- just like the maker herself. I read once that when asked by her circle of friends and acquaintances about her work she would shun away from answer and say “I just make pottery”.  But she didn’t just make pottery she made a legend. You see it was a man’s game, the pottery game, back then. Actions speak louder than words and in Lucie Rie’s case her pots sing.

I remember the first time I saw one of her vessels, not in print, but in person, it was an unexpected occurrence, I turned a corner in Canberra’s National Gallery of Australia and there it was amongst other unnamed works, subtle and quiet and strong. I fell in love. I guess I fell in love “again”, but in person this time it was a true love not one built on exerts from books and letters and photographs, a real love. The fantasy was gone and I was happy with the reality.

Lovers are teachers after all. Lovers of ceramics most certainly are, they exude joy or at least their art does. It is of course impossible to do this all the time and in these slushy winter months it may be harder to show such passion. Yet we know all ceramists are passionate because it is too tough a job for those not head over heals.

Montage: Kissssing Blog

I once read an article dedicated to how kissing makes us human by Tom Robbins that made me happy to be human. I just heard a monologue about the dire world that would be without kissing by Johnathan Goldstein and it made me happy that we kiss. I read the blog “Kissssing” all the time, it is chock full of classic love of all kinds (displayed through with great portraits and quotes! No wonder I am a fan). I am a hopeful romantic. I know there are lots of us out there, you may even be one, so take a gander and feel the love, cherish your love, long for some love, look back on love once had because love is what today is about.