I have been throwing a lot lately trying to get a little bit ahead as I have committed to going to the Sidney Market on thursday evenings and two of them fall inside of the workshop that I am going to on Salt Spring Island from July 19-31. I will make the trip back by bicycle and ferry to get here in time to throw a load of clothes in the washing machine and jump in the shower and then load up for the trip down to the show. I will then sleep in my own bed that night (which happens to be my birthday) and then ride back to Crofton at 5am to catch the first ferry off our island to the othere island and back to the pottery course.
I am really looking forward to getting away for a while and reading some of the books in Judy Weeden's vast library of clay literature. Mainly I look forward to not doing production for a few days and just working with clay in a way that doesn't relate to a customer, also I am looking forward to not having any lessons, the last few months seem to have been filled with other people's kids who range in age from 6 to 16.
I might also be away from the Market and all that it entails, but it depends on how things are going with my sales whether I might come back for a few. It is funny but I am really starting to feel like I am attached to the Market and have committed so much time and thought to the good governance of the society with all it's foibles! The one true beauty of pottery is that you can put on the radio and be fully engaged with the first person account of the second world war that you are listening to or you can work in silence and be truly in the moment, in yourself and in your own space like other jobs I've had don't allow. You can also put your old Moxy Fruvus CD in and yell along to the words while you load the kiln and despair about the destruction of our planet. That came out sort of sad sounding..... I am finally very happy, I love my job and what it allows for. I can come upstairs at 230 and make a fresh meal for Dave that simmers and bubbles until he bumps his bicycle into the front door reaching for the doorknob, he opens the door and I am careful to watch as he pulls a huge breath of sweet smelling aroma into his nose and wonders what I've made him for dinner. You can't buy that with all the $8/hour jobs in the world.