*GASP* CAN IT BE SO?

Two posts in two days! Will the wonders never cease?

I have decided to tackle a supply of small tasks that have eluded completion for some time. I've knocked a few down, but have more to go. it's nice to keep one's self busy, particularly if that busy comes with sense of accomplishment.

I need to find a model for some of this stuff I make. For necklaces and the like my mannequin works like a charm, but for earrings and bracelets... Not so much. I'll have to dig round and see who I know who is amenable to such a suggestion!

I've had a lot of fun with the two younger kids, much more than i would have thought. They are so darn clever and observant. The fact that they process their observations in an ...unorthodox... fashion is not lost on me. It reminds me of my childhood, and how we were different than most kids around us. I think I need more work at channeling their cleverness and creativity. Beter than I channeled my own.

I expected the house to degrade into a horrifying mess without Lady Arat about, but I have had a great deal of successin keeping things orderly. Much of this has to do with the kids pitching in. Monkey has been invaluable, and a hearty thanks to the Mutti for her assistance as well. Nini and W have not argued (much) with me when I tell them that their mess needs cleaning.

I am so exceedingly grateful for my family. But I have been made KEENLY aware this week of how inexplicably grateful I am for my wife. I have not always treated her as well as I should. For this I will attempt to gain forgiveness and rectify my shortsightedness and foolish self centred behaviors. I'm getting better at this, and will continue to do so. I have come so close to losing her, and I will NEVER skate that line again. She has been the bright spot in my existence when all else seemed a gray, dark haze. She has pulled me back from the brink in some of my worst moments, and helped me back to the light, and to a better place. I love so many, many things about her. The way her forehead wrinkles up when she is disbelieving, the way her right upper canine sometimes catches when she smiles. How she takes care of our kids with a gentle, yet firm hand, how she is on top of everything in our household. The way she is supportive of my weirdnesses. How she tolerated my long hair, because, in her words, " I like it, because YOU like it". I could go on and on. Sufficeth to say, she is the light of my life, and without her... well, I don't even want to CONSIDER such a thing. Because it is worse than that dark place I have so often (and with less and less frequency) gone to.

Item for the post:



I'm enjoying these jewels more and more. I've been experimenting with them as of late, so more should be forthcoming. Huzzah!

Thoughts of a potter...

The cold was almost unnoticeable. It got that way when things were going well. The shape was good, but not quite where he would have it. A bit more of a flare, tighten in the bottom... good. A bit more water, a few finishing touches with the ribs and loops, and done.

As the now comppleted thrown pottery form was pulled free on it's bat from the bat pins, there was a definite sense of accomplishment. Not that he was attached to the piece, it may destroy itself yet, as pieces were wont to do. No, just the simple act of making was sufficient. To see the formless blob of clay be shaped and turned into a vessel with function and purpose was sufficient to placate his need to build, to create, to... To make the world just a tiny bit better.

He pondered on this thought as he set the pottery laden bat aside on a shelf and reached for a fresh one. As he scooped a handful of clay and began the rhythmic motion of wedging, the thought stayed. "Why is it, exactly, that I come out here in the cold of winter, or the heat of summer, and do this, over and over and over again"? It definitely was not making him rich. Oh, there were those who purchased his work, to be sure, a mug here, or a pie plate there. Even once in a while, when he felt silly, he would make a piggy bank from a straight sided wide bottle form, finishing it off with a cork "snout" in the neck of the once bottle. These always sold, eventually.

Nor would it glean him great acclaim. Not that he wanted it. The rhythmic motion of the wedging had done its work, the clay was now smooth and uniform. As he firmly slapped it onto the wheelhead, all these thoughts moving through his mind, there in his cold, barely heated workspace, he thought also about his beginnings with clay. The outlet was one that had challenged him many years before. It had gone from painfully difficult, to marginal, to decent, to... well, less than adept, in his estimation. For one should never feel that one is as good as one can get at anything. But good enough that others were willing to pay him to teach them what he had learned. As the thought of his students and their fledgling abilities came to his mind, it brought both a smile, and a sudden realization. The need to create had been planted in him. And like He who had planted the need, there was coupled with it a desire to teach others, to help them to be more, to... to help them, as one had long ago helped him, to make the world a tiny bit better.

The clay was moving with his hands now, smoothly, as it should. The smile stayed, and the feeling of gratitude remained deep. Gratitude for the ability that had been won through trial and difficulty, and for the newfound understanding that was his. The new form was taking shape well in his hands. As the hope sprang that he was taking shape well in the hands of another.