Return Trip / void - filled.

Drive crests a hill, view opens into - and everything opens. Miles of fields, trees edging vast arc of sky. The space pulls together as one, vast infinite, and for passing moments I am that, too. Space opens inside and is the space I see, filled and empty at once. I drive on, observing all this, holding gently what is and what feels, expansiveness, and eventually it, as such, fades.

Silly lines on a wall

This is a response to Zach's latest post. I encourage all to read the whole post, but here's the part you'll need to understand my post.

Once someone is at this point, an individual may see that God isn’t really there at all, but just some lines on a wall. What is present is a group of individuals, searching for what they already are. Most people don’t realize it and never will. A few will realize it and go crazy. A few will realize it and embrace it. The individual will realize he or she is free. Everyone is. There aren’t any rules, there’s no morality, just some silly lines on a wall. At this point, there’s no need.

Your second to last paragraph, inasmuch as my experience understands, is dead on, but still, I hope, partial. For myself, I find the freedom aspect to be daunting, as it seems to render existence meaningless. To quote Christopher Durang, "we can look into the abyss together" - I hope but am uncertain that there is more than that to be found. It appears that there's more, but it may be that at the bottom of the rabbit hole is that, again. At least in the interim is the joy of the chase, of discovery. It's something.

I suppose at some point one goes from searching for what one is to, having found it, trying to get a grasp of... it...

Torn

About my art... it's not pretty in the conventional sense, but I believe in it, and the people who like it are often those whose work I respect anyhow. But it's not glossy jumping off the page like others' work, and that can get me a little insecure. Is it art or craft, anyway? That debate rages. I guess it depends upon one's definition of each. Some say that craft is something that's used, functional. I don't know. By the way, I fired a kiln for 22 hours on Sunday (and Monday morning). The results came out last night. Gorgeous. I'm proud, and it feels good that the guy who's been teaching me to fire the kilns is proud of me too. (Expect a design-realized update soon!)

About my social scenes... a frustrated and angry email somehow got into the hands of the person it was written about, who I used to be really tight with. She's intelligent and fun to hang out with, though, so the accidental wedge is a pain.

More attachment... meanwhile at the ceramics studio, the aforementioned firing guy is leaving Lillstreet after a year, and I didn't realize until tonight that the tear would leave a hole. It's like a death. Another guy's taking a year off from teaching, but he'll still be round and about. Both, great energy, great encouragement, pushing me to keep improving and experimenting, so I'll miss their presence.

About family... the stuff in this blog appears to part drastically from the Catholic faith (in which I was raised and in which I've been expected to remain). Now that my sister's on Facebook, how long 'till my blog's uncovered? I've changed my religious preferences on there like eight times, wanting to be both obscure and true to myself. ANXIETY. No matter how much they love me, they may never understand, never approve of, never accept, well, me, inasmuch as my perspective is integral to myself. That's not an easy thing.

About my job... I got a raise, but such mixed feedback that I still don't know if I'm doing all right. They say I'm doing well, but point out areas of inexperience in odd ways. Duh, I haven't done everything yet. And a cryptic comment about more committment (in terms of time) by a person who wasn't in the room when one of the owners said they are pleased with my level of committment... but the same person also said that I was working enough and that I was pitching in extra for deadlines as need be and doing fine. So I'm fine but they want more? Afterward, my questions to clarify the time committment indicated that fulltime with extra at deadlines as needed is fine. Which is what I've been doing. At this point I just don't care anymore. My free time won't be bought, I'll give it away (I am paid, but the money isn't nearly enough compensation) when I choose to, out of some sense of loyalty. The would-be-pleasant news of a raise is beyond negated by the confusion over what's expected of me. More anxiety.

And just to assure us all that things don't make people happy, I bought some pieces tonight that I liked, that have intrigued me, &c. They are nice to have around, and wonderful distractions, but the hole is still there.

I'm so cool.

Today a tin of nuts and nut confections arrived at the office. Of course I had to sample it, and the chocolate cover on a square of cashew brittle immediately began to melt on my fingers as I nibbled tentatively, wondering if I could bite it apart or would have to eat the whole thing at once. My first thought upon observing the melting chocolate was that it must have a lot of low-melt flux in it.

I'm such a geek.