Going to the well

I've been home from The Deep South a week today. I must admit I have suffered a bit from the post trip blues. Avoiding the studio since my mind wasn't quite there yet. The pots deserve more of me not less of me. The head has been telling me to make some work for the status quo that will be pretty and sell as fast as I can make it. The heart has almost always ruled my body so when I went to the studio and felt the soft clay that I had reclaimed before leaving the studio back in December I knew it had to have some katawampus. Since I am a North American I prefer katawampus to wabi sabi, y'all. He had a few drinks and walked katawampus across the field. They dun educated me good down yonder in the bayou where the aligators grow mean and ugly. First you have to go to the well. The well of the collection of pots that surround you then venture down and see what y'all were up to when ya left. These two little jars helped me to start thinking catawampus again and not try to please anyone else but me. I threw some cups. These are not yunomis! They are cups for water, wine, bourbon, tea, coffee or whatever is on your drink menu. Footed cups remember that! I then made a clay body outta fibre fax, toilet paper, grog and ball clay. I then nailed together a coupl of frames and well we'll see. I want to make some wall art. I'm hoping to do some brushwork livingroom Art. I talked so much about people spending more money on their livingrooms than than their kitchen. Seemed like I was just getting started so I then made some bowls jaggedey foot. I need to put my feet to the fire as I have Ash and Barrel knocking on my door. Can't let my peeps down. So grateful to be included with some of my favourite potters in the province at a brewery no less.