Found in Pockets: A Laundry List

So much can be told by the boys' pocket contents during this school year.  I don't know why, but I kept it all in an orange box above the washer/dryer, and I'm so glad I did!  If this doesn't describe "a year in the life" of two boys, I'm really not sure what does.  The time capsule contents:

2 purple Fender guitar picks
the upper body of a random action hero
an American flag pin, slightly rusted
a green plastic monster
3 rocks, one with a Sharpie-drawn face
an Christmas elf cupcake pick, still slightly sticky
skate stickers, 1 Thrasher, 1 Element

lime green floaty keychain, sans keys
red and black pipecleaners
rubber bands, 1 green, 1 blue, 2 brown
a small spring
1 yellow Lite Brite peg
pencil leads that don't fit any pencil in the house
dice, 1 red, 1 clear hexagonal

golf tees, one natural, 1 yellow
an electric outlet protector
1 clothespin
gold confetti
half a blue eraser
1 yellow crayon
innumerable legos
metal screws
1 magnetic dart
1 metal jack
a tooth?? what the...??
2 Peppermint Patty wrappers
lots of safety pins, buttons, paperclips and change
a blue snowflake stencil
1 orange Nerf dart
2 red plastic Silly Putty cases with putty
1 mangled yellow Starburst

I love them.

The Blues

Saratoga Blue

Sometimes a theme presents itself over the course of some days or weeks and I ignore it until I just can't anymore.  And sometimes I am crossing my fingers that when I connect the days' dots, there will be a picture there.

This week I am paying close attention, as I am at a happy "inventory crossroads".  I sold most of my inventory at my first retail sale (thank you everyone!), and now I have a clean slate.  (There's something so freeing about those empty shelves!)

I thought I'd dive right in, but aside from filling some existing orders, I found myself needing a little thoughtful dot-connecting.  So I scrolled through my camera's memory from the last couple of weeks and noticed a definite theme: BLUE.  I am an admitted color junkie, so picking a favorite hue is like  picking a favorite child, but blue always seems to find its way to the head of the table.

Not namby-pamby blue.  No, no, Nanette.  Bring me Cobalt! Electric blue!  Saratoga blue!

Lately, it's been a subtle blues all the way, like this high-fire sheer opal, which I love...

but looking at my snaps from a recent trip to Santa Cruz, California - (Why oh WHY is the light so different and amazing there?  Those hard ceramic blue skies...sigh...) I think some low-fire saturation is in order.  Just look:

Uphill Blue

Royal Teeth-ache-y Blue

Casino Blue

My new framed artwork is ripping a page from this book.  I love using these shiny, candy shell Envision glazes: turquoise, teal, royal, and sky. 

Weekends are dangerous when all your boys are safely occupied at a skate demo.  Plenty of time to surf that delicious Big Ceramic Shop website: www.bigceramicstore.com  and order Galaxy, Peacock and Larkspur!

The Genius of Showing Up

Colin's Ode to Dead Bunny

This photo represents the 10% inspiration that Thomas Edison talked about.  This is my 8 year old being sugar-cookie inspired by the new Green Day album that came out today, "Awesome As F**K". (We can talk about my obvious merits as a mother another day....)

Now I know you'd rather look at pretty pictures here: maybe a great swath of groovy wallpaper or photos from a town you might want to visit, or the lines of a sweet, quiet vase.  Who wouldn't rather suck on some eye candy than listen to me talk about air-kicking the kiln when I hear a bad "pinging" sound.  (You potters out there know what bad "pinging" is...I can tell...I can hear you cringing.)

But I want to talk about the other 90%: perspiration.

Inspiration and creativity are the catalysts behind most of what we all do, artists or not.  What haircolor/paintcolor/offcolor remark do we choose? How do we convince our kids that reading is better than playing Super Mario Brothers?  How can we sell more widgets?  What deliciousness are we making for dinner?

But let's face it: you can't walk around in an inspired dreamlike state 24/7.  It's impossible.  Sometimes you gotta be practical.   You have to show up.  You have to do the work.  Those crappy, mundane tasks. The sweat. The pain in the ass jobs. You have to clean the tools, mix the glaze, and schlep yet another bag of garbage up the basement steps.


So when I'm cranky when I have to make test tiles again, or source a better box for my candles, or spend a morning at the wheel with only a few measly pieces to show for it, I gotta remember: showing up is, in fact, what makes the pretty things.  The showing up is what makes it all go.  Making test tiles shows me how nicely gun metal green will layer over Archie's Base.  Searching for a new box source might save me a hundred bucks over a year (the cost of many pounds of clay).  And when I throw, no matter how long, I'm making muscle memory, and decreasing my blood pressure.

And after a while, when you show up on a regular basis, something surprising happens.  You're sitting there, minding your own business, showing up.  You're cleaning out the extruder or stirring the soup or entering numbers into that Excel spreadsheet.  And there it is: maybe lightning, or more likely, an idea that might not suck.  You think those kinds of kernels live out in the open?  Uh UH.  They're shy.  They live in the dark corners of our minds, and they only show themselves when we're not thinking about them.  And that's when the perspiration becomes inspiration.

A Small, Good Day

Everyone needs a day off.  That well doesn't fill itself.  After working for three weeks, weekends too, on some larger projects, my body is tired.  Even my hands hurt.  My wrists are clicking.  I keep apologizing to my neck.

I knew my boys were home for President's Day weekend, so there wouldn't be a lot of refilling during the next four days, so I took this 60 degree day and greedily stuffed it in my pocket.

I closed my eyes and reached into my file of clipped articles and scribbled notes to myself.  I pulled out an article from Edible Jersey, on the Lovin' Oven restaurant in Frenchtown, NJ.  Frenchtown it is!  I packed my new camera and I didn't pack my old coat, for the first time all winter.

Walked down Trenton Avenue, down a long stretch of gratefully dry sidewalk and pattern/design ideas were everywhere...

Gurus at Lovin' Oven:
Mike Quinn and Julie Klein

I made my way down to the Lovin' Oven.  http://www.lovinovenfrenchtown.com/index.html  Oh, heavenly cheesy joy and rapture: a grilled cheddar and gala apple on homemade sourdough with a cup of spicy tomato bisque (avec crispy homemade croutons, natch) and a pretty green salad.  I was so fired up to get at it that I was half-way through my meal before I remembered that I should take a food porn photo of it.  By then it was practically already smoking its cigarette.  Sorry, folks.  But it was beautiful, I swear!

Read Edible Jersey's article about Lovin' Oven's food and friendship philosophy here:  http://www.ediblecommunities.com/jersey/fall-2010/cooking-fresh.htm

Next I headed to Modern Love, which houses my favorite kind of mix: mid-century modern style, vintage cothing (damn that sheer fuschia 60s blouse with the bow tie neck that was too small!) and gorgeous letterpress stationery.  Add in some perfect vintage typewriters that left my fingers aching and I was in heaven!  I left 23 Race Street with a whole slew of cards in my cute, stamped, paper bag.

Look at these stylish girls.  I'll end there.  With their hats.  And maybe add in a beautiful cheddar and apple sandwich.  And subtract one coat.  Nuff said.

The Peace of Wild Things

I am the lone soul who loves all this snow.  I love walking to pick up my son from school and then crunching home in our heavy boots.  I love how all noise is muffled.  How in the first couple of hours after the snow falls, you go outside and it's so silent.  No birds, no cars, no planes.  Just the sound of the wind, and your own breath.

A couple of years ago, my sister gave me a bulky package for my birthday.  Inside were a pair of funny looking red snowshoes - vintage.  She squealed: "Don't you love them! They're used! I got 'em off ebay!" I thought she was crazy, but every time I use them, I am glad she had vision.

A few days ago, I had things on my mind.  Nothing new, really, but the kinds of stupid little things that we all worry about.  Small things on their own but they add up to a full brain.  I needed a little air.  I tucked a snowshoe under each arm and trudged up to Greenway Meadows.

There wasn't a soul there.  The sun was bright; the parking lot unplowed; not a footprint anywhere in sight. I strapped on my fancy red shoes, my gloves, my sassy furry hat and marched up the hill.  I went the long way round the fields, through the rough grass that refuses to be pressed down by even a foot of snow.  So quiet, except for my crunching of the snow. I felt myself breathe easier, the cold air stinging in my lungs, in a good way.

I found myself on Greenway's poetry path and stopped at nearly every one.  I walked with familiar friends: Dickinson, Flaubert, and Wendell Berry, who wrote the one below, entitled: "The Peace of Wild Things". (Forgive the photo quality - Blackberry...)

Berry's words reminded me that peace sometimes lies in wait, like the stars behind the day.  And sometimes, it lies up a hill, on a path, made by funny looking red shoes.

I Have NOTHING on Proust: Winter Day in the Life

6:16 a.m. alarm radio whipped up blowhard rightwing wonder every morning why am i tuned to this station hit snooze 6:23 a.m. brush teeth put coffee on elixir of life set table breakfast turkey bacon and waffles for kids i hate breakfast strips for kid1 squares for kid 2 check email make bed new underwear same work clothes as yesterday wake kid 1 round 1 wake kid 2 wake kid 1 round 2 lots of whining coffee coffee make lunch snack sign papers pack backpacks hustle vitamins brush teeth socks shoes hurry hurry bus kid 1 sad about heavy backpack looks like burdens of world on kid 1 kid 2 walk to school call husband on way home sky is hard winter blue pick up cold NY Times watch neighbor jog by in 28 degree weather and am for once glad i'm not the athletic type refill coffee throw load of laundry in apron on down to basement lights sigh at the number of projects in states of undress blueberry acai yoplait and plastic spoon i like eating with plastic spoons pick glazes delphinium bluebonnet ruby red chocolate sun yellow clover green see photo of felt pillow wall and figure out glaze pattern for aorta vase old suzanne vega on real live cd number 7 is some journey finish bud vases now votives now chocolates distressed at early drying time for four lamps half finished one giant one big two small curse efficient furnace only two hands only small windows of time wish there were windows in studio then just grateful for studio at all leave question re adhesive on chalkboard make date for coffee with friend re marketing ideas i suck at self-promotion half leftover vito's veg sandwich and 1 oreo no wonder they're america's favorite cookie seltzer with a red straw 38 special on ipod random finish a new blog archive some stuff throw wash in dryer new load throw potatoes in oven to cook for frittata tonight phonecall phonecall phonecall grateful for friends who get it write thank you note stop at post office then library then school to pick up kid 2 grab mail kid 1 bus cookies and milk for kids green tea for me potatoes out field homework questions can't remember high school math or spanish ill-spent fortune on private school make pile of unread catalogs two mandarins and stringcheese and gingersnaps cmon change clothes sneaks throw wash in dryer load kid 2 makes me laugh for three minutes straight water bottles grab racquets cmon cure on radio sky dark already tennis lesson sign in sink into chair flip through catalogs full of nothing i want draw two fast pencil sketches of stripey vessels inspired by socks in catalog chat with photographer mom at next table watch kid 2 give thumbs up through window zoom home set table frittata speeddemon cleanup honey home throw wash in dryer kids pjs brush teeth reading aah they're in bed and quiet falls over the land episode of fringe with husband he says i identify with clinically insane but lovable scientist b/c i am crazy but lovable and i say hey! but he says hits too close to the bone eh and i realize he's right hot tea more gingersnaps jealous of husband's apple pie he eats with abandon head to bed and double sigh at the mountain of laundry on bed needed to be folded before sleep is possible wash face brush teeth pjs read two pages of book club book before cuddling up in spoon and passing out

RIP 2010 Reading List

Minimum Space, Maximum Living by Barty Phillips
Lunch in Paris by Elizabeth Bard
The Simple Living Guide by Janet Luhrs
Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins
Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins
Boundaries by Maya Lin
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest by Stieg Larsson
The Family At Home by Anita Kaushal
The Help by Kathryn Stockett
Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher
Mudbound by Hillary Jordan
Solar by Ian McEwan
The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson
Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout
The Handmade Marketplace by Kari Chapin
Generation A by Douglas Coupland
Miles From Nowhere by Nami Mun
The Poems of Emily Dickinson
Poems 1923-1954 e.e. cummings
The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown
The Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore
World Without End by Ken Follett
My Life in France by Julia Child
Bel Canto by Ann Patchett