I also deleted a lot of my early clay efforts, which were more a learning experience than products that I wanted to see around still. You know how that is.
The new version, which is what you're looking at now, has had 1293 posts. The older one only has 191 posts left.
And there aren't that many pottery bloggers out there any more.
I was thrilled to meet two of them this summer in Seagrove, NC. And I think I'll meet a couple more at some shows this fall. I'm looking forward to it.
So I hope you might consider writing a blog, or at least reading mine every once in a while.
Thanks!
Oh, and here's my first post, as well as my comment that I added later.
Monday, October 4, 2010
beginnings come from endings
There are so many beginnings, endings, changes. Almost everything in the following pictures has been sold. I'm no longer going to be working in the community studio I've been in for 2-1/2 years after this week.
Alchemy of clay...new blog. Celebration of the elemental nature of clay sculptures and pots. Knowing a possible joyful suprise can come out of the kiln, or a grotesque mistake that I couldn't possibly have created. Both are possible. When I studied ceramics in the 80's, I learned to expect anything. I made things with reverence, thinking "everything is holy" and then released them, thinking "nothing is holy."
I'm dealing with knowing I'm the Crone. Hecate, the guide, the wise one who can give directions when asked by others. Unfortunately most everyone doesn't ask. Most everyone is in a rush, using GPS, or just wishing slow old me would get out of their way. Some even say "excuse me" as they run around me to ...whatever.
I had a croning ceremony several years ago. But this is the year when I'm feeling that I've become related to the hag, the elder who should have respect, who knows answers.
I need to remind myself a lot of the time as well.
Today I gently confronted someone who discounted my feelings and hurt me. Perhaps it was unintentional. I begin to wonder each time this kind of thing happens as very possibly intentional, from a person who likes to control rather than be direct. It causes me to examine things closer, to see what made me feel that way, as opposed to feeling joy or just sorrow. The dispair, the hurt feelings, all arise suddenly and seem to to me to mean I'm not important enough for someone to have communicated honestly with me. Not that I think I'm unimportant...but somehow a lot of folks in the world do. At least that's the feeling that comes up.
So I will enjoy being invisible for a while. There are lots of advantages...
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