It's true. I, and most Americans, simply believed that things would turn around with something as arbitrary as the calendar. What heartbreak. What a shock to have our Federal Capitol violated. And yet. Not such a shock, was it? Certainly predictable in hindsight.
So Jasper and I continue to walk. I continue to make stuff. Cook stuff. Switch from wine to scotch. Try to figure out What To Do.
Dry Creek is anything but. The water continued to run through the summer and fall, and now it roars. What comfort. The trail is packed hard with trodden ice. Jasper doesn't mind, and neither do my hiking shoes.
In the studio, the clay is slowly illuminating herself. It was not the porcelain that was causing the slumping. Well, not directly. It was firing it slightly higher. Pretty sure. It's not terribly easy to see (or photograph), but when rolled to the same thickness, neither the porcelain (left) or the stoneware (BC6, right) slumped when fired to cone 5.
The previous porcelain (which slumped to flat!) was fired to cone 6. The temperature difference isn't that great, but it must have been enough. These are pretty sweet little pieces. The colors don't show well in these photos. Larger and they could be dinner plates.
Looming in the background of all that I do, though, is the suspicion that our civilization may have already ended. We're just waiting for the crumbling to reach us. Here. There. Throughout. What a thing.
So care for this small family. This small piece of land. This worthy creature (John too). Try to figure out how to effect change with no lever except to further incite unrest. Be Patient. Wait.Wait. Wait. Not my forte.
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