Changing of the Guard
John Bauman wrote on my blog:
You’re not the old guard. You’re the perpetually changing guard. And nobody watches the standing guard. Everyone shows up for the changing of the guard.
Thanks Johnnie you know how much I respect your work as a studio potter making great domestic ware for 4 decades. You’re one of the potters I don’t git that ain’t rich. Every time you post you’re applying to drive a school bus or be a Walmart greeter my sphincter gets in a twist.
Actually everyone showing up to see the changing of this guard is a bit like rubberneckers at a car wreck. They show up to see what is going to come out of my mouth this time. My highest blog numbers are always when the readers think I’ve failed yet again, lost love, found love or God, trashed pottery knicky knackies, amateur work not ready for sale or displays of good work surrounded by bad work. They wait to pounce. Don’t fear it’s just another bullet bouncing off my helmet.
Johnnie I get your point. The Old Guard are either fishing for ground trout, preparing for their fishing trips or have already caught their limit and retired. This last 2 or 3 years has certainly seen the changing of the guard. There is a new (old) bunch that stand on the shoulders of these giants of their careers.
There have been comparisons between me and Grass because of his support of me and my career. I’m a pale comparison to his public persona. Grass is a researcher/author and I am the poet. Maybe the right woman would have given me balance and stability. I never got that memo.
We have to meet some day Johnnie. The first round is on you!
Here are a couple of John’s pots. Well made, interesting and welcome in the large market of Anytown, USA . Burn the blue vest, John. It don’t fit ya so well!
Sort of like a Waring blender." -Zevon
I've learned more in the past few years of changes imposed on me (and some of my own making).
My seventh grade literature teacher taught me that no good literature is written without conflict -- man vs. man, man vs. nature, man vs. clay, glazes, fire, and water. No good life either, I suppose.
I wonder what kind of paradise there could ever be in the absence of contrast? An eternal bliss without struggle? I don't know how that would work. It sucked for Midas. But then again, life sucked for Sisyphus too.
You keep writing about the changes and I'll keep reading.
BTW, have you seen the absolutely luscious, glazed pitchers John has on his blog today?