I ended up just messing around all day, a luxury I haven't given myself in such a long time that I really don't remember the last time I threw clay just for fun.
That is so sad, and as I write this I'm thinking I will never deprive myself like that again. I didn't keep most of what I made that day, just played around with forms and ideas. I finally threw some extra large tumblers for my husband, who has been begging me to make these for him for at least a year. I usually respond to him, (sarcastically) "I'll get right on that!" Doesn't he know there is always a stack of orders that comes first? God I am such a slave driver, and I wonder why I feel more like a machine than an artist sometimes.I don't make a lot of cups, I've never been that inspired by them and I'm always way happier to get my cups from Christa, who is inspired by the cup and makes
them better than anyone I know. But after seeing Gwyn Hanssen Piggott's cups, (I really can't stop talking about her) I've realized my lack of inspiration comes down to my own lack of imagination around what a cup can be. Also, how could I put off Andrew like that all this time? My sweet patient husband, who listens to me bitch all the time about how hard I have it, never asks me to get a real job that maybe has some health insurance, is always there to help me haul around clay and pottery, and pretty much rubs my shoulders whenever I ask? That man has a tough job. I don't try to be a difficult person or wife, but as Andrew says, I don't even have to try...So, two resolutions: One, always make time to play on the wheel. Two, always make time to make Andrew whatever he wants, and cut the sarcasm.
