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.