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.


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.

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