For a moment I thought I might go all turquoise and chili pepper and maybe sunshine yellow so bright it hurts the third eye.
Color has found me but not the way I thought it would. Just like life.
I’m setting about to allow myself room in my soul. It’s a chore. Pulling illusion of hurdles out of my own hands.
I’ve been listening to The Civil Wars on repeat. I steal all the best music like a magpie.
These days: Wearing life a bit gentler. Curves a bit softer. Making allowance for myself and pots.
Pottery is my exercise in detachment. Never used to understand the idea that that word could be a prayer. I throw a bit of mud and sometimes it stands up like I imagined it would. If it’s glazed well and fired right I have a piece that functions to hold and sustain – then it’s a beautiful accident. There are so many steps and so many hands that touch a fragile thing.
That seems to be true of all of life. Fiber and fabric and stitches too. Happy accidents and also sometimes all to purpose – I dream it and cut it and drape it and sew it and finish it just right and it is glory.
Making small and purposeful changes around UA. I’ll show you soon?
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