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I've been making pottery at home for a couple months now. Setting up the wheel at home made a huge difference to my skill level. Before that, going maybe once a week to the studio in the summer, I could play but there's a lot I couldn't do. Not just in how long I had and how infrequently I could practice the skills of throwing, but also how I can now work on the thrown pots at specific stages in their drying. I used to hate trimming pots, for instance, but now that I can choose the moisture level I trim at it's so much easier. Adding handles becomes possible - they won't stick when the piece is too dry.

So I got to play around with lots of skills, and I'm slowly learning how to get the clay to do technical things. That's not why I do this, though.

Pots -- cups and bowls -- I made are now finished glazing. I can use them, and I make a point to do so. When they get home I put them in the dishwasher and then on the counter and I'll grab one anytime I need a mug or a bowl. I drink water out of them and tea; I heat up my leftovers in the microwave.

Finally these objects aren't an idea, but instead the interactive human tool that pottery has always been. I cup them in my hands, hot or cold, and press my lips against the rim. I balance them on a plate when carrying them around. I swirl a spoon around the inside and scrape out the last bits, or I stir and listen to the sound of the spoon tinkling against the thin layer of interior glass.

More often than you might think I stare into them and experience pleasure.

It's extraordinary and wonderful how we infuse the practical and necessary with joy. Decorating our environment goes back and back and back. It's part of us. And these mugs, these bowls, they are a search for what can bring me the most joy according to my personal aesthetic. I use them and marvel at the sandy red clay contrasting with smooth glossy green or blue or white glaze, at the way colours swirl and mix within that glaze, at the contrast of food and colour or, in one notable instance, the perfect match between my hot chocolate and the glaze of its mug.

But more than visual this is functional. Joy comes too from how each piece is fitting to its use, to my body, to what it's containing. It comes from the way a curve fits into my hand, and I learn when the curve is just a little bigger than I can thoughtlessly lift without the crutch of a handle, or when I grip a mug by the rim because there is no cooler handle to hold. I learn when a round belly shapes into a narrow neck and my hand sits there and enjoys extra texture or friction: snakes of smooth glaze against sandy raw clay or rough texture from tearing that clay up carefully with tools. I learn when a bowl with a flared rim can be easily held between two fingers, one on the foot and one on the rim, but one with an inward-curved rim feels like it needs to be cupped beneath.

I learn when a cup fits in my cup holder in the truck and when it doesn't. I appreciate the heat retention and capacity of a big flared belly on a mug, and the heat retention and easy sipping from a smaller mouth.

Just as with clothing something made by me for me is a wholly different experience than using something mass-produced. Function, aesthetics, and meaningful engagement of thought all suit me. I'm not sure I can describe what a difference that makes. Nothing is just an object anymore. It's an extension of my body and my mind, and also a point in an iterative process. There's tension in the ceramics community about art vs craft but the satisfying part of this for me is the craft, is making something suited both to a person and a use and getting better at that.

It doesn't hurt that I'm making things I see as beautiful.

I still haven't hit my goal of pulling a cylinder as tall as a big slurpee cup but I'm getting closer. I enjoy the general shape of a travel mug but with curves currently, and also small round egg-shaped ones with lips that fit into my hands.

The shape of bowl I love I've known for a long time and I'm getting better at executing it larger too.

I love making those things and so more useful things, perhaps, lids and cat food dishes and ramekins have been going unmade. Eventually I'll think of how to make them beautiful and they'll get made. Likewise when I'm scooping sugar or oatmeal or cat food, or when I'm sipping from a spoon, I feel the lack of intention in the items I'm using but I don't yet know how to make exactly the forms I want or even what exactly real function would look like in those situations. I've noticed a small heart bowl is a lovely scoop, thumb in the indentation on the top of the heart and fingers cradling the bottom and a pouring spout from the point at the far end.

I'm clearly engaged in this right now and I enjoy it. Now I need to figure out how to get rid of all these objects I'm making so I have room for more, hopefully I can trade them for money for more materials.
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I've been dreaming hard the last couple weeks. These are the long, complex, deeply social dreams I used to have when I was younger; days or months or a lifetime passes and I have enmeshment and intimacy with people. Some of those people exist in real life. Sometimes upon waking I find that they never did and that's pretty devastating because my feelings of care and connection remain.

I also haven't been writing much about non-garden things. Whatever is going on with me has made it difficult. To describe it I will conceptualize writing as having four components: having an idea to write about, being able to form concepts into words, actually doing the push to start (executive function?), and the physical labour of viewing a screen and navigating a keyboard and web interface. Right now I can do the first two but not the two. Bits of things to say float around in my head but I can't sit down and dig into them.

Normally writing feels companionable, clarifying, and positively connecting. I'm putting myself out into the world as myself (this is a practice for me that requires constant, er, practice, which is why this journal is public). Anticipating that connective feeling usually drives me to write in the same way that anticipation of a conversation with a friend might drive you to use your phone. There's usually not a barrier to me for starting. Lately I'm unable to anticipate or conceptualize that feeling in advance so I'm not able to start easily.

Furthermore my body is tired all the time, my elbow had been hurting, and there is still something weird with my vision. I quite often sit or lie there thinking of exactly what to say but the physical experience of writing feels overwhelmingly uncomfortable to me. I have an optometrist appointment this week so we'll see if there's an obvious cause for the vision; if not I'll follow up with my doctor because it has been awhile with this blurry spot in my left eye, with difficulty focusing, and with a patchy/bleeding overlay on light surfaces. Luckily basketweaving seems to have fixed my elbow. I probably just needed to work the unused accessory muscles hard.

Having said that it would be good to find a good speech to text device.

On the opposite end of that I've been doing an evolution deep dive and every once in awhile there's a Stephen Hawking quote. I cannot tell you how soothing it is to hear an AAC (augmentive/alternative communication) device being used. Part of my autism learning has been exposure to folks with situational mutism, that is, folks who sometimes lose the ability to speak but other times are fine with speaking. I get those periods, and I get periods where I can force myself to speak but it's really really uncomfortable. Having just one person in my awareness who uses AAC sets me at ease on an unexplainably deep level, like maybe someday I can do that too when I need it.

I've been pretty busy lately. I'm still very very tired a lot but I've been able to spend a couple hours at a time outdoors somedays. I took two day-long basketweaving workshops and learned to make willow baskets (!!) which felt really joyous and fun. The first one was on Friday, my Friday off, and was a small class full of delightful people including the person who runs my local food bank. It was a nice chat-and-work day. The second class was on Sunday, it had more people and was a lot quieter but I still found so much joy in making the basket. Not quiet pleasure, but actual joy, like a leaping of the heart.

I seem to be able to connect to the things in front of me right now. I may not be connecting well to the internet but every time I see my baby apple trees and tomatoes I'm happy. Those baskets and my pottery feel good. A seed exchange with the food bank person was lovely and I like her generally. It remains such a relief to experience joy and connection again after a winter without.

Some things are more complicated. The pottery studio in town seems to be turning from a "show up sometimes to volunteer" to "carefully navigate people to find out information and push a little but maybe ultimately be a structural/organizing force myself". I'll do that if need be but I'm a little bemused. I've been able to dodge the garden club and landrace gardening organization; I've been good at organizing long enough to know that the second I take anything on I'll be running the whole thing. It may be that if I want the studio to stay open I need to step in, though.

That's always how they getcha. This might be a record timetable for being sucked in though.

Also complicated is stuff with Tucker. With the exception of that one evening (which is scarring from years of society and probably relationships using "your partner feels hurt in this situation" and "you shouldn't be poly because it's bad" and which I totally understand) he's been really present and loving and available. Realizing that I have no obligation to interact with him, I am wondering if I'd like to explore how our interactions could be if 1) he's not in a job where he's super burnt out and 2) I have my mind and sense of enjoyment back. Both those things are true now and they might not have been true for a very long time. I guess we'll see how things go and I'll self-monitor.

Meanwhile counseling today will involve a deep dive into my symptoms that might be medication side-effects (this counselor has lots of experience with autistic folks on various medications, we tend to react differently), some way to track symptoms and make decisions about trade-offs, and hopefully a strategy to approach my doctors and an approach to deciding what do to next. I'm feeling woozy a lot but happy, and I think I need to clear up the woozy before I'm driving 4 hours a day dodging logging trucks on resource roads. If I were in the city it would be fine, but with this much driving it is not.

More random things: donated a bunch of seeds to the burgeoning local garden club for them to give away as prizes, that may count as having given 120 or so packets of seed away locally. Big win.

Food bank can take both eggs and inspected frozen pork. Come to think of it, I wonder if the local teaching kitchen would mind hosting a bacon workshop? That might let me get out from under some pork belly. Contributing to the food bank is a win-win-win; I get to support the part of my community I most want to support, I don't have to run a perishable food retail business (though maybe I can tax write-off a sufficiently big donation?), and folks get food.

Cats are eating 1/2 can a day of wet food mixed with 1/2 can of water each. Their energy levels and coat quality have noticeably increased.

I guess volunteering with the pottery studio is volunteering? I've been looking for something to volunteer with for years here but it's mostly only during working hours. For instance the health and wellness fair that has all the clubs and volunteer folks put out a booth and people from town can go look is Tuesday afternoon, with just a touch of after work time.

I ordered a new, bigger collar for Avallu. He'll let me brush his right feather but not his left so I'm glad I'm working on it a little at a time. He's really enjoying this routine brushing, as am I. He's getting extra snuggly. Now if only I could maintain a routine.

Did I mention I have like 275 apple seedlings growing? Extraordinary. I feel so lucky.

I've been listening to a podcast called "Evolution Talk" lately. I was initially skeptical about 10-15 minute episodes written in an easy-to-digest style since I normally like very fact-based deep dives. The guy comes from a radio play background too, and has voice actors for folks like Charles Darwin. I've found over time though that it's a delight: short enough episodes that I can usually keep my attention through one without having to turn it off and rest, and he's a very clear but comprehensive thinker. He also does a bunch of series on a topic and he really digs into subjects like popularly-unknown folks who worked on pieces of the idea of evolution, multiple theories and how they're supported, etc. He also has his sources on his website which is becoming a requirement for me to take something onboard.

It's been raining and snowing and raining and sleeting. My towels are out on the line and have been for a couple days. On the other hand it's supposed to be 25C next weekend? This is a very springy spring.

Anyhow, very long update but I'm still in here. I'm just less physically and emotionally able to internet than before.
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I'm making more soap.

The last soap I made had sugar in it for extra suds, sunflower seed oil to make it more nourishing/moisturizing and to make it spoil faster (it felt right), salt in it to harden the bar, and both kinds of grit. Plus it had every scent to make me feel nourished: roses and joint soothing and benzoin to remind me of Tucker and fir needle to remind me of the woods. It's for getting through memories and hard times and is every colour, the kind of confused mix of cranberry seeds and walnut that reflects my current inner state. It will not last forever, I'll need to use it up before 2 years.

Today I'm making shea butter soap, so rich like a blanket. Sugar for suds, no grit, and sweetgrass and sage and birch for cleansing and the first sap of spring. It'll keep well and won't spoil. One day I'll be ready for it and it will be there, white and clean and gleaming.

Soapmaking is a thing we did together and it will always bring him to mind.
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When we're actively together, it's good

When I give explicit instructions, it's good (for awhile?)

When we have a scheduled conversation where I explicitly ask in advance for empathy and structure the conversation, it's good

When we travel together it's good

When we hang out in the evening and share dinner after chores it's good

Relationship discussion via messenger seems to work best

Email works for important communications until it does not

When I give him a script for something (make me tea when I'm upset) it's pretty good, though sometimes takes awhile to kick in

Morning brunch together is very nice

Sex has tended to be good



Logistics around dropping barriers while having other partners is not good

When we have a scheduled conversation where I don't structure the conversation, it's not great [Edit to add: relationship conversation]

When he goes away for a long period of time to Events, it's not great. Routine Vancouver stuff was fine

When we fall out of routine it's not great

When something needs to be handled by thinking it through ahead of time it's pretty bad

When I expect him to be proactive on something new it's bad

When I ask for a commitment to something it's often not great (except for showing up to an in-person thing)

When we make plans to do something out of the house that doesn't involve buying tickets or a hotel room we don't tend to do it

When I rely on him as the go-to person for emotional/high stakes situations in my life I'm setting myself up to fail

When I structure my life around shared routine it's great much of the time and truly terrible roughly 15-20% of the time

When something else is taking up his attention and energy it goes badly

When he is starting up a new relationship and I have even clearly stated expectations of him it goes badly


If I was going to go no-contact for awhile, when we were both healed we'd resume contact and slowly build and back off contact to a comfortable level. It would be tentative. Declining a part of the new connection wouldn't have the same meaning as removing it from an established dynamic. Invisible parts of the structure would not remain lurking like tripwires.

If I don't go no-contact I need to be very intentional about this. I may not be able to manage it at all-- if I don't do a good enough job maintaining my boundaries then anger will come in and do the job for me. Given the number of years I've been waiting for Tucker to come to me with his half of the "what is this relationship anyhow" discussion I can't wait for a collaborative discussion. So, what do I want out of this, given which parts work and which parts don't?

Seems like I need 1) other folks with whom I communicate regularly and 2) chunks of time where I'm not communicating with him. Sounds like most of our interaction should be either in person or during pre-agreed discussions where we know what we want out of it.

Do I want to arrange chunks of time together with high focus and very sparse communication in between?

If so, what size chunks and with what regularity? It's going to be so tempting to go back to seeing each other twice a week, but that will only lead to another set of breakup posts during his next Event. It's too much enmeshment then being dropped for me.

I need to remember that I'll miss him no matter what. The guiding principle can't be to not miss him. It has to be feeling supported, loved, together when we're together, without giant interruptions to my quality of life.

Gonna chew on this one today.
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Seems like it's easier to write daily during the week, and when I'm at work. Makes sense. I'm lucky to have that spaciousness at work. It does mean I'm not going to the field, but my excuse is that a little fire showed up on the wildfire map across the road I was going to take into the bush today. We've had some rain, but fires have been moving very quickly and being out of contact along or past a road with a fire on it makes me twitchy. If it did blow up there'd be no way to let me know.

We have a safety system when we're in the field but it's missing the crucial component of being able to be contacted while I'm out there-- I can always call out but there's no agreement on, for instance, always running on a certain radio channel so they can get me.

The province lost another little community last night. It lost Lytton awhile back now, a train wheel against the track sparked a fire fight near the town, and it seems like within half an hour after the spark the town was gone. That was the day after Lytton had hit the "hottest spot in Canada ever" record two days in a row. Last night was Monte Creek, a little outlier town west of Kamloops. A big fire had been building in the mountain for days but a big wind drove it downhill, across the highway, and through the town.

A lot of the province is on fire.

Meanwhile I see damp grey clouds and patches of blue sky outside and it sprinkled rain twice yesterday. The apples are swelling and swelling; I keep the duck pools under them so they get several dozen gallons of water each per day, plus some fertilizer.

Tomatoes are starting to roll in.

The tomato trial has basically two parts: one is to gather information, and the other is to choose and collect seed from the ones that will continue on into next year.

Gathering information about plants and earliness is lovely. I walk along the rows, I count clusters of green tomatoes, I observe the plant growth form, I poke around looking for buried ripe fruit.

Continuation is more complicated. I'm still saving seed from everything that ripens, but. The panamorous row is a truly random collection of mixed wild and domestic genetics and it is producing a lot. What it produces is... fascinating. There are a couple cherry sized tomatoes, lots of saladette-ish size, and I just got my first beefsteak of the whole garden from that row (though Maya & Sion is coming right along behind, and maybe Taiga too).

Before I put seeds in to ferment, especially from the panamorous row, I taste the fruit. The panamorous tomatoes get sorted into A (tastes quite good), B (insipid, mealy, or has a weird acrid aftertaste that I associate with certain wild genes), and I have a tiny pile of Wow! Unfortunately the best panamorous tomato so far was densely fleshy with only 2 seeds. That might indicate an obligate outcrosser -- some of these have genes which prevent them from self-pollinating, so it's possible that ones with fewer seeds are obligate outcrossers which didn't get well-pollinated because our weird weather is hard on bees this year. It's possible that something else is going on. There certainly seem to be more seeds in the less tasty ones, sadly.

I'm keeping the B pile because any of these plants may themselves be hybrids so the offspring will be different than the parent, and/or they may have crossed with the garden tomatoes I planted in a ring around them. Any single one of those seeds may hold something amazing. And by increasing my seed supply in this way, and to this extent -- I'll have tens of thousands of seeds by the end of the year at minimum -- I can start hard selection for direct seeding and eventually self-seeding into an animal disturbance soil seedbank.

Basically-- I can plant lots and lots of seed and not too many plants will survive. The ones that survive will be the ones I want, and once I have enough survivors in that situation I can start tasting the first fruit of each and pull out the unpleasant ones so they don't contribute. Eventually, after a couple or a dozen years, I should have enough early tomatoes that I can pick some and others can drop to the ground and self-seed that way. As long as I keep removing the unpleasant ones there will be seed accumulated in the soil that will express itself over several years and the fruit should get tastier and tastier.

It's a multi-year project! There are a series of goals -- first, plants that ripen from transplants. Then, plants that ripen from seed. Then, plants that taste good. Then, plants that can seed themselves.

In the end the idea is to seedbank like this for many species. Bare land sprouts plants, it just does. If I can shift the seeds in the soil, it will mostly sprout plants that I want. Everything will sprout earlier than if I'd planted it after the soil warmed. There should be selection only for what doesn't sprout early enough that the cold kills it; I don't need to do anything for that to happen. This should allow me to get a really good early crop to work return out of the garden.

Gardening in this environment requires some knowledge; I need to have a good visual grasp of what all my desired plants look like when young. Then if I want an area to be only tomatoes, or only brassicae, I'll leave those sprouts there and weed everything else out. For warm crops, weeding everything else out might look like harvesting well-developed chard or lettuce or broccoli raab or lamb's quarters that started much earlier, leaving a patch somewhere to go to seed and replenish the soil seedbank.

Precisely what seed replenishing rotation looks like depends on how long a sufficiency of seed remains viable in the soil. We've mostly bred multi-year dormancy out of domestic crops without even trying; our seed is basically always saved from what we planted this year so it's a strong selection for most of the history of domestication. But. I bet you that with the quantities of seed that can be pumped into the soil when I let several lettuce plants go to seed (hundreds of thousands at least) or even tomatoes and tens of thousands, that it'll come along on its own.

So, yeah. I'm basically tasting a widening trickle of tomatoes and making decisions and occasionally wrinkling my nose or grinning. I'm walking a path that leads far into the future and may never arrive there. I'm using my sense of discernment and consequence. And I'm having a lot of fun.

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