Rough Ideas

On Wednesdays my yoga group practices in a church parish house in Delaplane, Virginia.We trade off leading the practice and at the end Tom lead us in a few moments of meditation. I sat on my yoga block with legs folded and back pulled up straight, my arms hollowed like I held fragile eggshells in my arm pits. I lay my left hand inside my right and touched thumbs together making an oval shape. The oval image came back to me again and again. My breathing became a graceful strong egg filling my lungs with silence. Shivasina near the end of our hour is my favorite moment of relaxation. The silence and letting go of every muscle allows space for new images. The moments allow my brain to tumble and not think and I bring my mind back to the oval egg shape of hands, armpits and breath. In the space of shape solutions appear, there is no narrative or evolution. It is like all of a sudden I can see how the jigsaw puzzle pieces fit together magically.

I have started making a few pieces for the wood firing in the fall. The ovals of ideas move with my breath. It has been a week to follow intuition and draw on paper and clay. I start where I left off and trust the the next step will come. I moved my chair to the basement gallery space for cool air and the company of the last series of work. I stare at the sunlight and images of eggs that I photographed in March come to mind.They are nestled in gas fired bowls and the pale variation of colors circle in my mind.It is like each cycle of firing is an egg shaped Russian doll. One experience is held in the shape of the next idea, each step grows and shifts.

Yoga is learning to associate with the seer who resides beyond the language of the mind. ~ PantanjaliI

Catherine White Slip Decoration Workshop at Hood College
July 17-18, 9 a.m.-5 p.m.
July 17, 6-9 p.m.

The weekend course is an exploration in the vocabulary of  slips applied to clay forms.  The class will be both demonstration and hands-on work.  Saturday and Sunday sessions will be amplified with an evening slide talk of personal work and historical references. Assignments will explore the poetic potential of texture, line, pattern and color variations. The class will weave together the implications of brushwork, additive and subtractive applications, and the interaction of  form, glaze and fire. Assignments will cover experiments with varied techniques.

Bring leather hard plates, bowls and vases plus clay to roll out slabs to experiment on.

ARTS 599 Slip Decoration
July 17-18, 9 a.m.-5 p.m.
July 17, 6-9 p.m.
Instructor: Catherine White

Hood College Frederick Maryland

http://www.hood.edu/academics/departments.cfm?pid=departments_ceramicsWorkshops.html

Workshop Fee : $185
1 credit/Graduate Tuition:$360
to register call Karen Taylor at  301-696-3526

My mom always asked questions. As a teenager I thought they were dumb questions and the sound made me want to stick my head in my shirt as if I was a turtle and could retreat form the world. We would buy fruit and she would always ask where are these apples from or where were those strawberries grown, she would ask where the fish was caught. It was as if  by knowing how far her food had come she could vicariously travel as well. Now that there is a whole awareness of eating locally and knowing where your food comes from I realize my mom was way ahead of her times.

Mom had a thing for sunsets she loved to see the sunset and she would rush dinner of delay it so that we could find a place to see the sunset. I remember one thanksgiving she visited us towards the end of her life and each evening we would go for a walk just before sunset and on the way back to the house the we were just below the crest of the hill and the geese flew into land on the pond and they were just above our heads. It was as if we could reach up and touch their webbed feet and the muscles of their flapping wings was overpowering. We both stopped and could not find words to describe the feeling. I turned to her and said I am so glad you experienced that that is one of the indescribable moments of living on this hilly terrain near a pond. It was the sound and feel of flapping. The strength of wings and the recognition of what energy it must take for those geese to fly. Tonight as we lingered after sunset it was fire flies and a crescent moon that kept us company.

"Akiko Busch, who was a visiting writer at Haystack during our second session, July 14-27,2009, writes about uncertainty and how it manifests itself in our art making, our lives, and in nature. While she touches on what is increasingly the spirit of our time, it's not a pessimist'sview. Not knowing exactly where we are going leaves us in a place of discovery. We are alive and embarking on a journey".-Stuart Kestenbaum