Frog Jumping

I have been frog jumping The Deep South -NC to Georgia to Alabama, to Mississippi,  back to Georgia then back to Alabama back to Georgia and now back at Star. Nice to be back. It feels like a home away from home. Ben the master clay maker yelled out to me in the parking lot- we're all glad you're back! See what I'm saying. There are good people all over the world or at least in my world.
Ron says he when he makes these frogs he thinks they are Voulkos. I think they are Ron. Yesterday I thought it was me. I felt like a frog on a log yesterday. I had been looking forward to that time firing the Ratagama and being with my friends for almost a year and it is now over. It is etched in my memory as a time "as good as it gets!" I felt a little sad and alone until I got home.

Here are a couple of pots I brought back from the workshop at The Kiln Studio in Fairhope, Alabama. They survived the drive home to Star.

One of Ron's frogs followed me home. He has a jar attached to his butt. Every pot and art object at The Cactus Lounge has a story attached to it. This one is the story of The Last Waltz. I hope it is a story I can tell without getting all teary eyed. I like the man walks into a bar stories best. Hate to let people know I am a sentimental fool.


gz said…
good work. like the frog too

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