This is what I achieved in three hours. Meaning that small bit of glaze painting. Those are not the colors they will be after firing.
Inshalla.
The pink-looking color on the edges of the petals (or shall we call them the lips of the petals?) is supposed to look like this.
Grapel
That is not a typo. "Grapel" is indeed the name.
But who knows? And whatever colors they turn out to be after firing, will they dance a spicy tango together or will they fight?
I'm hoping on the tango. I have no idea what color I'll paint the other petals nor do I envision what color the outer part of the bowl will be but probably green. A green of some sort, at least. And what will the center look like? There must be yellow for the pollen and beyond that, I don't know. I love the process of going through all my little bottles of glaze and looking up what the colors are supposed to look like after the heat of the kiln has its way with them, and then just quick-quick, reaching out and grabbing one I think I like, and going with that.
I have no brush skills. I've taken exactly one art class in my life and the main project I did in that class was with a palette knife. And this was in the 8th grade, I do believe. One semester. And, oh yes- I have painted my finger and toe nails many times and I suck at that.
So this is all a trip and an adventure and I am very, very slow and despite that, my painting is sloppy. I can't paint a wall, y'all. This fact has been proven over and over again.
But oh well.
I am having fun.
Class was more sedate today. Not sure why. This is part of it, I guess. I don't think anyone was thrilled with what they accomplished.
Perhaps the moon is not in the seventh house of pottery right now nor has Jupiter aligned with Mars.
Or something.
I am curious about these things.
Still, it was a good time, three hours of concentrating on painting two colors onto clay, general small talk, a few good laughs, learning some more about the women I am in class with.
A funny thing happened. I was outside, sanding my bowl before I began the glazing process. This smooths out bumps and rough spots and so forth (in theory) and a man got out of his car which he had parked in a spot right across from where I was working and said in the most jovial tone, "What are you sanding?"
"Uh. A bowl," I said. I mean...really?
"Can I see it?" he asked.
And so I showed it to him and I could tell he was not overwhelmed with admiration but he said something like, "Nice!" and I felt exactly like a child when an adult tries to make conversation with them although the guy wasn't weird or creepy or anything but very friendly, as amiable as a Labrador sniffing your legs and offering his head for a good scratch.
It was weird but it wasn't weird weird.
And other things happened after pottery including Lily going to lunch with us again wherein I learned even more from her about things that are sexual in nature or in the neighborhood of that. For instance, did you know that women who ply their trade as sex workers at truck stops are called "Lot Lizards?"
How could I be 71 years old and not know this?
And on that note, may I say that I have buried the lede here. About half an hour ago I got this text from my across-the-street neighbor:
As you can see, I have some wonderful neighbors. And it looks like we have a very good County Commissioner.
Again I say, "Inshallah."
I'm going to go heat up the tofu and vegetable stir fry I made on Monday night. I believe I will add some fresh peas I got at the Asian market today. I mean, they need shelling but I think I can do that.
Some of us are Buddhist Monks who walk thousands of miles through snow and ice for peace and some of us get our wisdom from bathroom walls which is nothing like Simon and Garfunkel were singing about when they said, "And the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls..."
Love...Ms. Moon






























