Christmas Past. . .

The Dogwood Wreath, closeup

 A friend of mine had said that this Christmas would be memorable. It was. We felt fortunate that everyone was healthy, and calm and bright; even if distant. We have spend Christmas's without any of our kids home before, but this one did feel distinctly different. Neither John or I were inclined to travel, or go skiing, as we have in the past. We did have a lovely day, brioche for breakfast, and a long hike with Jasper. Ha. As usual. And now I can post what I was working on for so long. . . porcelain candle wreaths for the Daughters: A four-candle advent wreath for Beth, and a 5-candle not-advent wreath for Sarah. I was so pleased with the outcomes. 

 

The Dogwood wreath

Two things to note, though. One is that I completely underestimated what it would take to pack and ship these puppies. I am still astonished that they made it to their cross country destinations in one piece. Kudos to Federal Express.The second is that their success may have made me a little overconfident with porcelain; possibly explaining the disaster in the previous post.

The Dogwood Wreath  with candles

Christmas has always been important to me, in spite of my devout agnosticism. I was raised Christian, of course, but even after my spiritual awakening, I have continued to appreciate the themes that Christmas celebrates. Generosity and a coming together being topmost.  The notion of lighting the dark is so strong for me that we never eat dinner during the dark months without candlelight. Nothing celebrates this quite as brightly as Christmas. Unless it's Hanukkah. 

The Poppy wreath with candles

This year, though, a new word kept coming into my mind and my annual End-of-year card writings. It was "hope". I realized the degree to which hope figured into a this now-famous baby being born into and embraced by a fraught world, representing hope for something kinder, gentler, more humane, and enlightened.

 

The Poppy Wreath

Honestly, it feels naively optimistic to hope these days. But there you find yourself on Christmas day, talking to friends and loved ones, and feeling hope in spite of yourself. You do so knowing that you're setting yourself up for disappointment, but you do it anyway.

The Poppy Wreath, closeup

Next?  The porcelain experiments (using white stoneware in tandem) will begin next week. . .when I get a little of the studio Christmas chaos under control. 

Wishing everyone in the world a promising and hopeful 2021.

Looks like monthly reports now. . .

So this seems a little bit sad. A month goes by and I don't seem to register it, let alone post. What's going on with that? And yet. Here we are. We have a neighbor who is a physician's assistant who works with Covid patients, and she told us yesterday (driveway conversations! so wonderful!) that she got her vaccine. One of the first in line. Hallelujah. One less essential soul to worry about. Sort of. 

Pottery has continued, but stutteringly. These bisque pieces were so wonderful, but collapsed during the glaze firing. I can't bring myself to photograph them in their misery. Porcelain is a harsh mistress. So the next project (after holiday baking indulgence, and Christmas cards) is to make the same square piece (roughly) from both porcelain and a cone 5 stoneware, and run them through the same paces. I suspect that the porcelain is to blame, but I must have had something to do with it. . .

The days have been full of the making of other things too. I am no medium snob. Knitted socks, crocheted collars on tiny velveteen dresses, procuring (wrapping and mailing) gifts. All good work, but not work I am good at. It all takes me so long. 

Jasper continues to be my partner-in-crime. We had a long walk today in misty murky weather with M and B. Perfect for my mood. These Rocky Mountain foothills have their charms, though more and more I miss the wet eastern green.

And we sequester. Wine, dog, consort, not in that order. We wait, too. Patience is the hardest thing. For me. For most of us, I expect. Christmas is a thing to try to cherish, but mostly to survive. We're planning on a NY Christmas. We have to find some Chinese take-out. Smile. And hope that Christ can actually intervene, and make compassionate souls out of all of us.