Where are we? What the hell is going on?

The opening lines of Imogen Heap's "Hide and Seek" do seem appropriate.

A lot of changes afoot in my own life. The worst part is the first part - where intuition is a universe beyond logic, and the self consequently finds itself divided when presented with the situation. First it's only obvious that something's wrong. Then the division must be found and understood... often not an easy thing, it's always some manner of bad news. Then there's the change to be instituted, and then the new situation to be gotten used to.

But we're past part one and even part two, the institution of change. Things are starting to come together, logic is catching up, things are making sense. It takes time. I'm also very thankful for some conversations with several really wonderful friends, for their thoughtful and sometimes forceful responses to my ramblings. It helps.

Don't Postpone Joy

Someone discussed my title phrase, found on a bumper sticker, on their own blog. Her name was Joy, so for her it was a reminder not to dally, as well as not to put off the good stuff.

Of course, it's the time-balance thing again. But I'll be happier if I play more, so I'm going to do a little less office work, or at least start my day a little earlier, so I have more time to do ceramics during the week evenings. Then on the weekends I can go play for a day, if I like.

Yesterday I went skydiving. It may become a habit. (It will, if I can afford it.)

This morning I returned a friend's call. We're going to get our kayaks and head out to the river and catch up on things, just as soon as I can get some breakfast.

Yes, I need to get to the studio. But, first things first. Playtime.

I miss play.

A few things have reminded me of this.

First, I spent some time talking with a friend a couple of weeks ago. Suddenly, as we laughed about something, he said, there's that twinkle again! He likes the impish twinkle in my eye. (Okay, impish is the wrong word, but I'm at a loss for the right one.) And I love the smile that lights up his face, which returned around the same time. At least for a few minutes. Summer's been wearing on both of us.

Second, one of my coworkers and I will sometimes goof around. It's always something that wouldn't be funny in writing, but in the moment, it gets him smiling. He has these sweet lines around his eyes when he smiles - signs it's not an unfamiliar expression. It hasn't happened much this summer, but we do still occasionally connect for a few seconds here and there.

Third, my favorite structural engineer has been unhappy lately. He likes to complain, but it's been the frustrated type as opposed to the good natured type. He's not usually like that, which is why I call him Sunshine. I miss my happy engineer.

Fourth, one of my studio mates has had a lot of stress in his life, his finances as well as his finance suddenly quitting her job (and not immediately finding another). He hasn't been himself in awhile.

Life seems to be heavy on everyone, these days.

little things

in particular, i'd like to note the disfunctionality of the toilets in my life.

toilet at home: has been fixed by landlord. made it worse. have to hold the lever down to empty the tank. water doesn't swirl normally, it sloshes as it swirls. takes ages to fill, and loudly. sometimes the flapper gets stuck, and one must return to toy with the lever.

toilets at work: one routinely needs to be flushed twice. seriously. anything beyond a wayward glance heads in its direction and it declines to empty itself. putting a sign up in the stall at least brought the problem to others' attention, eliminating the problem of walking in and seeing a partly-flushed toilet.

other toilet at work: usually works fine, but some days it declines to develop adequate pressure and also requires a second flush. seriously, some days it couldn't handle a facial tissue being tossed in.

neither of these are particularly pleasant because they both have flush valves rather than tanks. i guess i'm just not a fan.

then there are the toilets at the studio. the downstairs bathroom tends to be dusty so i often go upstairs if i need to change clothes. it takes fully five minutes for the tanks to refill, despite the sinks having adequate water pressure. oh, and none of the stall doors actually latch correctly, so if not held shut (a folded tissue makes a good wedge), the doors swing open. that's also rather special.

then the ones downstairs. they look like normal tank toilets, but inside, they are not. they flush like flush valve toilets with the dramatic high-pressure rush of water, but then make horrible noises as they refill. it's truly unpleasant.

so i do appreciate that all three toilets in my parents' house are in perfect working condition. i visited the family over the weekend.

i also appreciate that, after three weeks off the bike, i pounded out 35 miles on rolling terrain, upwind both ways, like it was nothing. cruised along at 20-22 the whole time, as good or better than my path pace when i was bike commuting. that one is a little harder to explain.

thoughts, insights, perhaps in the style of woolfe.

there is only so much time in the day, i work architecture for the paycheck. clay is the new obsession, it seems. other things have been before. i throw everything at it - all my time, all my thought, all my energy. i want all of it, all knowledge, all depth, all breadth. i dream about it, and my spare thoughts go there while i am elsewhere. i've had flings - with one person or another, with one interest or another - where that becomes my primary object of interest. everything else becomes an aside, becomes less important than my current object of desire. but to what end? i seek fulfillment, but at some level of intimacy with any object i find that it, too, in the end, is empty.

i am unsteady. i immerse myself in emptiness. nothing else exists. i am dead.

i seek to experience, to experience everything. i love the cool night air and waves crashing and stars overhead, curl of smoke, the sweetness of cloves on my lips. i love lazy mornings, sun filtering in, breeze caressing my face and i slowly awaken. i exist in the moment of existence; the last moment is already gone, i am only in the present, the next moment does not exist. i follow my whims, i touch, i laugh, i explore. i am impish, a trouble-maker, i seek to surprise people and make them laugh. i laugh in surprise, myself. pain is only a sensation, a sudden twinge brings a gasp before a smile. it makes me feel alive. clouds move swiftly across the sky, invisible breeze; time passes quickly and i wait for salvation, awaken the dawn, haunt the night with my searching. and the answer is immediate, closer than my skin, infinite as the sky, it is this, there is no more, and this is enough.

then the moment passes and i am searching again.

Tonight

Tonight I went and had a smoke by the lake,
absorbed myself in the sound of the waves -
easterly breeze bringing them in one after the next over the sandbar -
looked at the stars,
and felt a little better.



On the 16th I fired my August kiln. Rough firing for me and for the kiln. But I'm not displeased with the results. Photo below is the work I had in.


This is what I do. This is what I love.

The awe of being alive.

When did you last experience it?