Two weeks ago the 9th Annual Ceramic Self-Guided Studio Tour took place throughout the Phoenix Metro area and East Valley. It’s quite a happening. There was a great turn out at my studio – a lot of people, many familiar faces and even more new ones.
There’s a concentration of activity pre-tour: finish work, studio prep, exhibition deliveries and set up. By the time the weekend arrives, the artists are just running on excess adrenalin.
After the tour weekend, I had plans to get several things accomplished at home that had been purposefully neglected until I had a minute to think straight. Therein lies my downfall…I thought I would be able to think straight. Nope! Completely scattered. Mercilessly distracted. I had a list…somewhere.
The occasional inability to gather and organize my thoughts isn’t new. I’ve come to recognize the precipice of this occurrence. Either I have several projects coming to a close and the loose ends compete for my attention or there’s a new idea rattling around in my head (and my sketchbook) that I am otherwise unable/delayed to begin work on. In the wait, I tend to elevate accumulated stress with the fear that I will misplace the idea somewhere between picking up groceries and remembering who needs which uniform – is it clean? – for what sport and “the tournament starts when?”.
I know that the ensuing weeks will allow me to sort through my thoughts – acting on the necessities and discarding the clutter. In the tangled mess, I consider the process of revisiting existing work in a new way. The idea was presented to me as recreating small portions of larger works to be sold at a lower price. I did make a few. They turned out wonderful. Still, I had trouble separating the image I was creating from the original. It became a little frustrating. I found myself putting off glazing because I couldn’t move beyond the original work and I didn’t want to make copies.
I wonder if the guy at the gym that looks like Lyle Lovett knows he looks like Lyle Lovett. There is an uncanny resemblance.
I need to change some signage at the studio. It’ll take all of thirty minutes.
Order clay, bone ash and something else. There’s a list somewhere. I need to pick up wood filler.
Why aren’t they delivering the usual junk mail to the studio cluster box? I was able to get the grocery store sales a day early. Now…nothing.
I think I can suspend the back drop for the photo light box at the studio from one of the support beams overhead. I wonder if there is a way to make it roll up on itself like grandma’s blackout shades so I don’t have to get the ladder out to retrieve it from 15 feet up.
My running shoes squeak. I’m so sick of hearing myself walk – lest anyone misunderstand, I don’t run. I heard a story about tennis player, Ana Ivanovic, who’s shoes squeaked so loudly during the Australian Open that they became a distraction for the opponent. I thought that was silly. How could anyone possibly be distracted by a shoe squeak across the distance of the tennis court. Yeah, well…not so silly.
Pinholes. The green glaze is pinholing. I know I can eliminate them by altering the application. It complicates things. stupid pinholes.
Do I allow myself to retire forms that people continue to request but I no longer make – or haven’t made in some time? Not sure why I haven’t made any. One of the forms I stole for Dick Lehman any way – thanks Dick. Maybe when I have a little extra time I’ll make a few.
So much more to sort through. Sorting, sorting.
