Thursday, June 14, 2007

optimism looms

Today I decided it was time to get back to the life I was meant to lead, which is to say, not on the verge of puking every 10 minutes when I think about what a failure I am. I woke up at 1 AM last night yelling "shit!" because I forgot to close my venting kiln lid at 11 PM. (A venting kiln is a kiln that is firing and you keep the lid cracked for 3 hours or so to vent out the fumes-- I keep it cracked until the kiln is at 1000 degrees). As I walked down the street to my studio, I looked at the stars and felt the warm air and begged with god. "Cut me a fucking break" is what I actually said. I know I've been saying "fuck" a lot in the last few posts, and maybe that offends some people, but I hope not. Because it truly is one of my favorite swear words.

This morning I slept in. I had a horrible dream right before I woke up that I was on a cross-country forced march with a bunch of people and one of my ex-boyfriends. We were kind of together but he brought along his new girlfriend on the forced march. They were all happy; I was miserable. It was one of those dreams where I was so mad I had to finish the dream in my head after I woke up, because naturally I woke up just as I was about to punch him in the face.

I felt better after I slept in and told Andrew about the dream. I got up, ate some dry toast, (still nauseous) and went to the studio. I immediately got a check-in call from my man Hector at the factory, which gave me a shred of hope that I will not go down in flames. I had already decided that the day would be devoted to throwing. No orders, just getting centered with the clay. I threw a bunch of small bowls which will be transformed into flowers, a few vases that will be prototypes for a new design that has been laying on my brain, a bunch of random cups because I felt like it, and massive platter that measured 16" across and took 10 pounds of clay. I really want to start throwing huge stuff, no more dainty little things.
.... okay, some dainty things but gigantic stuff too.

I went home around noon and read some of my current book, choked down some lunch (still pukey), then fell asleep. When I woke up I called my health club on a whim and sure enough, they had an open massage appointment in 30 minutes. I love my health club, I adore my health club. I will tell you about my trainer Coco, one day, because she is a serious piece of work. I jumped on my bicycle and pedaled down to Club One, where Tammy gave me the most loving 1-hour neck massage I ever received from a stranger, and verbally reminded me that all will be well. After I got back to the studio, I had a few times where I had a surge of panic and horrible thoughts about my future, but then realized how boring that was and threw some more pots.

1 comment:

  1. Michelle10:23 AM

    Whitney,

    Thank you so much for writing your blog! I've just discovered it, but I'm glad to know that other artists have "want to jump off a cliff" days too. My pottery business is still small, but a bad kiln can make me want to burn the studio down and sometimes it's hard to get going again. Thanks for letting all of us know that everyone goes through those times.

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