Pretty Woman, Pretty Bowls, Pretty Crazy, Pretty Thrilled About Yesterday's Election Results

 

Y'all- this is my pottery friend, Liz. Well, Lizzie. I asked her today if I could take her picture with that bowl for the blog and she said I could. She visits here at blessourhearts and I thought it was time to introduce her and it makes me happy to do so.

That bowl just knocked me over. Here's a closer look.

Remember how I said that the bowl she painted with dogs running on it reminded me of cave paintings a little? Do you see what I mean? Such simplicity of line and yet so much movement in those lines. And get this- she never made drawings like this before she found an under-glazing pen which is what she uses to make them on her bowls. 
One more picture of her. 

No further words necessary. 

It was a good day in pottery despite the fact that the flower bowl I'd started two weeks ago was understandably too dry to work on and to add to that, had cracked in half before even being fired. 
Oh well. I started another bowl and I did everything I could to make sure it's still soft enough to work with next week because it is not done. 

But Jessie? That girl found her groove on the wheel. She sat down and threw seven beautiful bowls, one right after the other. 

As she was leaning over the wheel, shaping her bowls, I said, "Oh Jessie! You look like a potter!"
And she did and she is. 

I got to have another one of those women heart-talks today with the woman sitting beside me working on her own project. My god but I do love to hear people's stories. I am constantly amazed and in awe of the strength of women when they simply tell me about their lives. I know I've quoted this many times but as Yoko Ono said, "Everyone has a story to tell."
Amen. 

Glen is all packed to head back up to Canada tomorrow morning and I hope for his sake that the planes are still flying. I hope for MY sake that if they are, they still will be when it's time for him to come home. I guess that after yesterday's big fuck-you to the orange would-be-dick-tator and the entire Republican party, Trump is doubling down on his cruelties, refusals to negotiate, and insane demands. Not to mention his lies and ridiculous claims of voter fraud. Have we not heard that one enough already?
This is all going to take a while to figure out as even his own minions are not too stupid to see which way the wind may be blowing. 

I tried to start packing for the beach and I swear- I have some severe mental problems with that. I think I believe that if I pack for every eventuality I will have more control over a situation which is out of my comfort zone. Which is ridiculous. Two of our number mostly live in athleisureware and they have NICE athleisureware and another of us favors sweat pants and t-shirts while I, of course, have zero sweatpants and no athleisureware but a lot of pairs of overalls and also Goodwill cashmere and a few linen shirts and aquamarine dresses that are probably going to be too summery for the cooler temperatures. I have one pair of pants that fit fine and some shirts, of course, most fairly ancient. To add to the whole situation, the temperatures now go from quite chilly in the morning to nice and warm in the afternoon. 
What I am saying here is- I probably do not need to take the silk velvet jacket that Lis gave me, do I?
If I took one pair of overalls and those black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and a short-sleeved shirt, that would be enough, along with underwear and a real jacket. And a nightgown. And a few sweaters. And...

Let's not even get into shoes. Beat to shit crocs and flip flops? That's pretty much what I have. 

And no matter how much I tell myself that none of this will matter in the least, I still lose my mind over it. I KNOW IT WON'T MATTER. I KNOW IT DOESN'T MATTER! So please do not bother telling me what I already know. It will not help. 

I may not take my MacBook to the island. And even if I do, I might not open it. I feel certain the planet will continue to spin around the sun even if I don't. 
Imagine that! 

See you soon. Or, maybe a bit later.

Love...Ms. Moon