my work is interfering with my drinking

My husband invited me to a wine tasting event at The Wine Studio of Asheville. Sounds good to me; I love wine, and we keep a nice collection. Then I started trying to recall the last time we'd uncorked a new bottle, and it hit me. We've practically stopped drinking.... how the heck did that happen??!!??

By late last September, my Etsy shop got on steroids somehow. My husband took on a full time job- less flexibility than free lance consultant- and continued to pack and ship my pottery after work. I was working 10 hours in the studio and spending 4 more hours managing my shop. Dinner became a quick sit down event, and our ritual glass of wine got lost in the manic energy to get on with business.

Furthermore, Friday evening used to be wine and cheese night, or saki and sushi. My husband and I either snacked in bed while watching a movie, or ate by the firepit and then laid in the hammock talking into the dark hours. This now seems like a distant memory, although I'm sure we did it last July sometime.

My work is interfering with my drinking. There. I have admitted that I have a problem. Sure, I have tons of cute photos in my Etsy shop, like the one above, but my cabs, merlots, and pinot grigios are neglected.

Connection #4

The brilliant woman behind the Etsy shop, marysgranddaughter, stopped by my home and studio when she was in my town. Cindy met with her publisher in Asheville, and came with her beautiful daughter and mom. They were also touring an NC college, which makes her Connections series exquisitely autobiographical. As she writes in her description

"This series explores the connection between mother and daughter and the equally joyful and painful process of a child getting ready to leave home.

"Connection no. 4 is embroidered in slate and plum and dusty olive on beautiful homespun linen that is between 80-120 years old. There is a red and blue thread connecting the hearts of the two women symbolizing that no matter how far apart they are their profound connection remains."

I love the metaphors in her pieces- the threads that connect, the separate frame for each woman, the arm which extends in 3D. She has caught the power of presence  in her folk art style of rendering her figures, chosen a media passed down from her grandmother, and creates conceptual pieces in a sophisticated contemporary vein.

Our visit was way too short! My daughter is the same age as hers, we share similar experiences in our art and marketing, and I loved her descriptions of her hometown of Gainesville, Fl. I hope to have the privilege of spending more time with this talented artist and new friend.

The internet can seem so unreal; impersonal. I have a new sense of what makes human connections, and of how our individual stories live in each other.

OneClayBead

I have been dreaming of making my OneClayBead jewelry for half a year, and now I've carved out the time to do it. I have 5 successful pieces finished after 4 days of messing around with my loot from a wholesale bead show, all using at least one of my own hand formed stoneware clay beads. I could have made $750 in pottery inventory in this amount of time, and have an entire page of customer requests that I am neglecting, but this is something that I need to do. No financial adviser would tell you to stop making successful products and instead fumble around with expensive materials and no production plan. There is, however, a difference between an industrial factory and an artistic soul.

I want to make jewelry that is unlike anyone else's. I like the boho style. I like using natural materials and other people's handmade beads, and I like teaching myself new techniques and using all my various craft skills together.

This ^ is one of my most unique designs, just finished yesterday, and listed here. I macramed 32" of silk and cotton cord with pearls and mother of pearl carved beads. I used one of my own Spiral Heart stoneware beads, and a Tibetan silver and pearl dangle. The model is my daughter's friend, Julia, and I like the shot of her, too. I like using unprofessional models, no make up, and capturing that inner quality.

I'm very pleased with the few pieces I've created. Something intangible and vital gets woven into the strands and strung on cord, and connected to clasps. It relates to, and also informs my claywork.

I wonder if other artists and craftspeople pursue different media. I recommend it highly! If you are not failing over half the time, I assert that you are not truly creating.

as 2009 ends

It was a year unlike any other of my life, and one that has taught the lessons of adversity. I think we're getting good at the making lemonade when life hands you lemons thing. We had a power outage for the last night of Chanukah, and sat by candlelight all evening, playing board games, roasting mini- marshmallows in the tiny candle flames, and finally just talking. It was one of the best evenings we've spent.

Next we had a blizzard, and when the shoveling was done, we made a snowman. He is still there, a symbol of the crazy mad laughter that is available no matter what the circumstances. When you strip everything bare, you can see quite clearly how the simplest moments and the humblest things are an invitation to happiness and joyful abandon. The way a cardinal looks against the stark snow. The cat that curls up on a present under the tree. The teenage girls, who for no particular reason decide one day to begin a conversation as if you are someone worth asking.

I walked past the brook I love today, and it was silent with ice, as if holding its breath. There is no breeze. Only expectation, as we wait for the last night to invite our wishes and prayers.

Happy New Year! Dare to dream huge, and may all you envision be yours!

The Circle: Chranukah

A clever and talented perfume maker and blogger, Roxana of Illuminated Perfume, asked me to participate in a holiday round robin Advent-ure. For each day of the Christian Advent, a different blogger creates their own little post about scent and its relationship to the experience of the holiday season. If you enjoy my post, check out the links above to read all the posts in this series!

We are a blended tradition family who celebrate the Christmas of my Episcopalian childhood with the Chanukah of my husband's faith, in a season that we now refer to in our household as Chranukah. Time has smoothed the blend, and I can now sing the Hebrew blessings as artfully as my husband hangs outdoor lights of blue and white, but it wasn't always that way.

In our first holiday season together in one household, it became painfully obvious that the plethora of Christmas decoration swallowed up our menorah, the carols hogged the airwaves, and the cookies, candies, and cakes were like painted harlots vying for attention with a singular plate of latkes. My husband and his sons were woefully uncomfortable.

Our new kitten, aptly named Loca, created the comic relief that smoothed over our tension by perpetually stealing baby Jesus from our nativity scene and leaving Him to be found under pillows, in a shoe, or under a chair. One day Baby Jesus went missing, not to be found, and we had a whole Christmas with a manger scene that lacked Jesus.

The next spring, while tending to the new growth in our gardens, my husband burst into the house, holding the tiny sewn figure, and exclaimed "I found Jesus!" My daughter and I laughed ourselves silly! "Don't tell your mother!" "Don't tell my mother what?" "Don't tell your mother that you found Jesus! She'll think we've converted you!"

This story is told every year as we hang ornaments, and put our nativity scene under the tree. We now eat gingerbread Star of David cookies, and send batches to my in-laws who love them. I've become a great latke chef, and make homemade applesauce, so those smells now evoke our holiday memories: gingerbread, fresh and pungent applesauce, steaming plates of latkes. And Baby Jesus still maintains a slightly earthy scent. What we are all celebrating is not really so different, or so it seems to me. Hope. Miracles. The light that comes into the world and our hearts and cannot be extinguished.

Gifts for Her

What do women really want? I hope lots of them want a Deco dragonfly mug, because mine is in this week's Voter (Gifts for Her)! And not getting enough love at the moment, so please, consider voting for me! Here is the difference between men and women, according to me:

What do men want? A: What other men have.
What do women want? A: What other women want.

I think that it's so easy to buy gifts for women. Make it personal, heartfelt, slightly luxurious, and at least one notch beyond what she'd buy for herself. Do the little, non-material things for a woman you are gifting- a thoughtful card with a personal note, a great setting in which to present your gift, and sometimes a story about why you thought of her when you chose that gift.

I hope all your gifts this season come with kisses and hugs and shining eyes and maybe some of those golden moments when you know that all is truly well and your heart's desire is actually all around you.

A Potter does Thanksgiving

I was looking forward to baking with my daughter on the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, as a break from making a gazillion ornaments in clay. When we made our sweet potato buscuits, cut out in Star of Davids, I realized that this is basically the same thing as working in the studio, except it smells better baking. And when it came time to put a lattice crust on the apple pie, I couldn't control myself. The potter in me took over, and soon I was cutting out leaf shapes, and hand forming acorns. Then adding a milk and organic sugar coating to make it brown nicely.

Yes, I have always been this way, and so has Marci. I knew that she had the artist's gift when she requested broccoli at age 5. She didn't eat it. Instead, she made a hump of potatoes and stuck the broccoli heads in like little trees.

I guess you just can't take a break from being who you are.