The myth of forever

After the visit to Sherry's to do pottery I came home and well, wanted to do pottery. I've had my wheel for well over a decade now. I had rescued a baker's rack from the dump to put stuff on. I wasn't quite sure what to do about the wheel, though.

Well, I went to the dump and saw a shower surround there, the plastic wrap-around ones that are usually caulked to a pan at the bottom. I snagged it and set it up in the little corner where I wanted the wheel. It's flimsy and bendy, so I stacked my clay in dairy crates right outside one wall of it (the other was against an inner house wall, and the 3rd side of the alcove I created this way was a closet door). This lets me use the wheel without spattering clay-water all over the room; it just lands on the sower surround which is ultra easy to clean. As a bonus, the shower surround has a little soap ledge where I can put my phone with the music playing.

There's very little active space. It would be nice to add a couple shelves since I have room for my throwing tools and bucket of water but not, for instance, the clay, so I need to get up between each pot and get a bat, get more clay, etc.

It's also surprisingly nice in that the white blank surface of the shower surround corrals my focus. There's nothing there but me and the wheel. I'd thought awhile back I'd like to have it by a window, but I think this is better. I also am glad I didn't choose to put it in the downstairs bathroom that was ripped up for the waterline; staring at a toilet while I threw would also suck. I did put my drying rack and some plywood for another drying space in there, though. It will likely be the most humid space in the house for a long time. I guess the fact that the fan they installed in that room goes nowhere is good for something.

I've been doing one or two attempts at throwing per day since I set the wheel up a couple days ago. When I was at Sherry's she taught me some things about the foundations of posture and energy lines that completely upset my ability to do anything at all, but that clearly will serve me well once I relearn to throw with them in mind. I'm also using a clay, M340, I don't like, it tends to be lumpy, or rather hard to move and then move in a rush which creates lumps. Plus I don't like the colour either while throwing or after firing. The only thing it has going for it is that it vitrifies well, that is, it's not porous when fired so it's more food and microwave safe. Luckily I have, um... M332 (a sandy red that feels really responsive), M390 (a smooth, plastic red), M370 (a smoother stoneware), P300 (a cone 6 porcelain), and IMCO night (black when fired, smooth) to experiment on, and theoretically also a box of plainsman coffee and of calico clay have been offered to me. After my experience at Sherry's I eventually want to find a cone 6 (that is, fireable in a normal kiln) porcelain that is translucent, but I'm in no hurry since I want to get to know these other ones first and figure out which will be my friends.

A good clay will feel good on the wheel and/or be good for slabs, will do something nice colour-wise after it's fired, and will look acceptable with glazes I like. I expect to end up with maybe 3 different ones but who knows, really.

A couple days of a small daily practice and I'm already really noticing how good it is to learn by doing the same thing daily a little bit at a time with my body, and not pushing for marathon sessions. My body definitely integrates information and also strengthens its muscles overnight, so I get better faster, with less hours of practice. My hand strength is nonexistent these days, my fingers like to pop backwards, so doing things properly and not ramping up too fast is important. Can't wait till I have hand muscle again!

I like the short-term daily practice, like 30 poems in 30 days or throwing one or two balls of clay per day for 30 days. It helps reinforce that things I enjoy can exist just as long as I enjoy them, that they don't have to be something I do always consistently. I can dive in for a little while, then I can come up for air.

Meanwhile I've collected several rocks and have started casting off them just a little. Ideally I'd basically replicate the rocks in plaster or bisqued clay so I can use them as molds. Plaster or clay molds could be cut off to the height and angle I wanted. I don't currently have access to a kiln, though, so I may just work straight off the rocks.

Using red clay and rock keeps calling The Waste Land back to me. If there was water and also rock echoes in my head, over and over, come in under the shadow of this red rock. I ordered a set of letter stamps and when they arrive I'm not sure what they'll do, but it'll be something.

I can't wait to build my skills to be able to make the pieces I want. Also to have the time to do so. Some things have exploded around work, sort of, and it's got me pretty stressed.

Sometimes we want eternity

I had to take Avallu in to the emergency vet last weekend.

It's difficult here. There are basically no vets. There's a daytime emergency vet 2 - 2.5 hours away and no nighttime emergency vets. There are no farm animal vets, except some which do horses.

So if a dog or cat is not doing well I need to make the call early enough that they don't die in the 20 minutes of "first you need to pay for a virtual vet to diagnose and certify an emergency" and "then you need to load the animal and drive them into the vet".

I'll spare you the details but Avallu is ok. It was maybe a slipped disc and a UTI compounding each other? But I was afraid. He loves me so much and wants to do what I ask, but he was in a lot of pain. Loading him was rough.

The vets were great with him, though, and very good with my "he's dog reactive and person selective". They were polite to him and he was polite to them despite his pain, and they were adept at blocking all other dogs from his sight.

They were very busy, though. I ended up sitting in the car for six hours in 2.5AQI 200-300,mostly around the top end. That is where there's enough smoke it's hard to see the end of the street, and ash accumulates on the car in a visibly speckled layer over six hours. I'd left without a mask so by the end not just my throat, sinuses, and eyes were burning but also the skin on my face.

I'd also left in "shoot the neighbour's home, better cover up when I step outside to look at the morning" booty shorts, without putting on real pants. They show the bottom of my tattoo, which I think invited a young woman to give me a card and invite me to her church.

Oh well.

Pup is feeling better on painkillers, though he's noticably whiny when they wear off. He's moving though, and able to lie down, even on hard surfaces. He's also taking his pills well when they're encased in duck confit.

It's been a long time since I felt that level of adrenaline in my body. Over time, living here on my own, I've been allowing the barriers that keep me functional to wear down. I'll let feelings make me stop, let them alter my behaviour. Maybe I'll hug something. Maybe I'll cry. Maybe I'll go be curious about something. That all seems to be at the expense of calm, quick, measured behaviour in an emergency, though. I am not ready to lose Avallu and it took me a bit to get myself together when it became apparent there was a problem.

Money played into that too, but that's a different post.

Anyhow, pup is home and very loved and is not in big danger.