I just completed about 6 more of these mugs and will be making quite a few more. To view this and other new items, check out the etsy page. Cheers!
The pottery studio that has become such a big part of my life is having a gallery show and sale this Saturday to help stimulate the economy. Specifically, stimulate the economy enough to keep the gallery and studio doors open past the fall.
While it's not dire, we're taking it seriously. So...there's this event that will feature over 60 local potters and their incredible works. I'll be there too, doing some demos. Please do not pet the potter. (I kid. But at least tell me about my eyes first.
If you're local, please come out. Say hi. Buy a pot or two. If you're not local, send us some good thoughts. This place means way too much to me and many others to see it disappear. To learn more about the studio and the event, visit us online. Clayways Studio and Gallery
Last night, I had unexpected company. My sister is staying with me through her transition to Austin, TX and let's face it, everyone loves my sister.
So on a Friday evening, when I am more than used to my nose in a book and my feet under the dog, this Friday was very different. Unexpected and unplanned, at 6pm I had a house full of friends, a sink full of tamales and plans for dinner and a movie.
One of my visitors, Theresa, kept me company in the kitchen while we dished out food and drinks. I noticed that as we moved about, Theresa was moving quickly. Quickly enough to make me nervous. I smiled for a moment, then touched her arm before she hastily turned sauce in a bowl so swiftly it nearly slopped over the side.
"Where's the fire, Theresa?"
She stopped for a moment to think, then we both burst into laughter. It was a Friday evening. No more work. No more deadlines. Plenty of issues. Plenty of things on everyone's mind. All different. All important, but inconsequential to the evening. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. And yet, Theresa was stirring that sauce as if the world was going to end fifteen minutes before our selected movie would.
We made a commitment in the moment to slow the hell down. Immediately. We stated it at first, then held each other accountable when the temptation to "speed up" took hold. Soon, the rest of the folks in the house took on the same commitment, either spoken or unspoken. Lines softened on foreheads, worried frowns curled into sneaky grins as we took turns reliving some of our most embarrassing moments all together, or independently.
By the time the movie began, everyone's problems and woes and worries and wants were a million miles away. Folks found their favorite relaxation posts, lights were turned down...
In that moment, we had all the time in the world.
Sometimes I forget to appreciate the most simple haves, because all I can ponder are the have nots. Like looking around me, seeing laughing faces and sparkling eyes, despite it all. Like eating a good meal and really tasting the love that went into the preparation. Like being hugged by a friend...just because. Like a moment when everyone is touched by the very same emotion. Those moments don't last forever, but they stay a lot longer when you're not looking on the horizon for what's to come.
Perhaps there is something to be said for allowing yourself to enjoy exactly where you are. Perfect, or not.
There are some new items available on Etsy if you're interested. Some vase forms and a cute little stamped bowl.
Other titles in progress included:
And You Wanna Know Why I'm Paranoid.
You Gotta Fight For Your Right To Slap.
Do I Look Like I'm Amused?
Okay so, hi. I know I know. I've been completely out of the blog loop. I offer no excuses. Especially not now because I'm up to my ears in stress and a little Internet foolishness sent me careening over the .
And you know what happens then, right? Two things. I snark and I slap.
All around my world this week and last, the topics of Internet privacy and social media habits or accepted guidelines have been hot fire topics. Actually, it's been like that since SXSW concluded last month. Cecily offers timely advice to the twitter lost in her reasons why she's not following you. J offered some quick tweeves that made total sense. Tiffany initiated a really interesting discussion on privacy and entitlement that fascinated me. Basically, everyone I know lately has been especially passionate about the topics of privacy and twitter or more specifically, "who gets to tell who about how to use the Internet?"
I'm the first one to get offended by my space being infringed upon. I hate Facebook (they don't need my link), but I have an account out of professional obligation. Myspace (they don't need my link) I just flat out refused after toe dipping in the cesspool for approximately 1 month several years ago. Friendfeed I like, but just can't seem to develop any real desire to consistently leverage it and they seem hellbent on telling users how they should want their experience to be. I love that we have these lovely tools and apps and creative and inspiring ways to remain connected, communicative and engaged.
All that being said?
I'm going to need you to mind some rules about "getting to know me."
Rule One:
If I Haven't Authorized The "Adjustments" DO NOT MAKE THEM.
Do not ever do shit like this. Like. Ever.
In case you are confused by the image, let me explain. Someone who follow(ed) me on twitter, decided to take my avatar image, retouch it to his tastes, then offered to sell it back to me, for $5. That's obnoxious enough. But the image he retouched, was posted to his twitpic account, for public view. My image, with his services listed at the bottom of the image. All without so much as a polite tap on the shoulder for clearance from me.
I would never think I'd need to explain to someone why this might be inappropriate. But apparently, I do. And that freaks me out so badly I'm tempted to lock up every social media account I have with medieval chastity belts. So, I assumed I didn't need to say this...but Rule One:
If I Haven't Authorized The "Adjustments" DO NOT MAKE THEM.
Rule Two:
Please Take A Moment To Review My Content Prior To Adding Me
If you are highly religious, I find no fault with you. In fact, in many ways, I admire you. My spiritual beliefs are involved, layered and deeply personal to me. I also tend towards potty mouth from time to time, for reasons unbeknownst to me. If this is going to offend you...I'd rather you not add me, then add me and then attempt to censor me. I have parents. They did their jobs. They don't require substitutes. The beauty of the Internet is to a large extent you truly can control the company you keep. Exercise your right to company management anytime you wish.
This also applies to people who feature content that is starkly in contrast to what I post, how I think, how I express myself and the company I keep. If you're a card carrying "insert any hate monger here" who loathes brown people or despises pit bulls or Austin or little blue dots or clay or whatever the hell I spend my time rambling about...then just don't add me. You know...kinda like I never added you?
Rule Three:
If We're Going To Disagree, Can You Leave Your Ape Suit Offline?
Let's get something clear. I love a good debate. I don't love being insulted. I love passionate discourse. I do not love passionate dickheads. Whether directed at me, or someone I'm friends with or even someone I barely know...if I want to witness a scene, there's plenty of reality tv on VH1 to keep me properly amused. Show the class your Momma intended. And if you can't...fake it til you make it. Offline.
Rule Four:
Keep Your Circus On Your Own Stage.
One of the things that has always made me uneasy about Facebook was my inability to be accessible, but still allow my inner control freak to flourish. I am still struggling with this one.
As I mentioned earlier, I keep my FB page for professional activity. Now, my friends leave me love notes and family drops by to share their stuff as well. I welcome it. But if you're contemplating leaving a message on my wall about the guy you woke up in bed with after that crazy party...I'm gonna ask you to actually LOOK AT MY CONTENT and then think about me. I probably wouldn't want to know that in general conversation. Why would I want to know that in front of prospective clients and coworkers? Can you do me a favor and buy a clue? I have enough anxiety in my life. And if you're not interested in buying a clue, at least don't be offended when I politely ask you to exit the sandox entirely, or at least take a seat on the bench for a quarter.
Okay...I'm feeling the blood leaving my face now. We're all good. Whew.
