Monday, September 22, 2014

Next time


Next kiln, next year, next almost everything!
I think I was born an eternal optimist. Surely that has been what has kept me soiling my pants.  It was all supposed to get easier with age.   I got no one to blame. I am a stubborn little bastard that has put meaningfulness of life ahead of good fortune. Like the farmer I always think next year will be provide a better crop, and I will at last be rewarded for my efforts. Next year, next kiln, next this and that , next life. It’ll all be better next time. Success is not nearly as interesting as meaningfulness although I haven’t had a taste of the former.  But for the mean time being I am glad to be me and live this life with it’s many rewards.  Cassara fired the salt kiln at Sheridan College with a few of my pots in it. Fingers, toes legs, and t’s crossed that there is one in there that takes my breath away.  Cassara can now fire all  my pots. I got a few killers. These pics don’t do justice.

I’m more particular about the pots I make. I’m older and slower and l say “yes when I ought to know!”. Everything has gotten more expensive except my pots.

1 comment:

Vicki Hamilton said...

This is called intimacy. When you let us know you in this way. Thank you, thank Cassara - I continue to see the "attitude" and the beauty in your life and in your pots. I am proud to call you my friend/inspiration/butt-kicker.