Futility Now

Joaquin went to San Francisco, and I spent my hard-earned Open Studio dollars on improvements and furniture for the house.  It was grand, except that I got bronchitis. I also dyed my hair black.

The living and dining room, current incarnations:

Also, the room in the basement that served as a gallery during the tour is now a den, as in den of iniquity.  NOTICE! We now have a television.  Kate (Joaquin’s mom) gave it to him for his birthday.  It was about time for us to see Mr. McQueen on a screen that does him justice.

Notice, too, that Rya rug (which you will probably either love or hate).  Finally a place for a fluffy carpet to come into my life!

Finally, to mix it up, I’ll skip the requisite Yoshi photo for this charmer:

Sometimes you really wish you could get that spider, and eat it.  But the spider is outside.  And you are a kitty.

It was especially difficult to tolerate my puffy, discolored face (not to mention bloody drool & stitches) when my boyfriend was glowing with vigor and vitality from a combination of kung-fu and greyhounds.

Some of you know that I went to a week long ceramics camp out at Menucha about a week after my teeth came out.  I think everyone assumed I had a speech impediment until about Wednesday, but I was so cool and friendly because of the Vicodin that I made tons of friends.

Yoshi, as you might imagine, was not pleased about my absence.  But when I got home he was very curious about what I had been making.

It’s possible he was disappointed that nothing tasted like tuna fish.

For your benefit as well as Yoshi’s, here’s a little snapshot of what I worked on.  It was a raku workshop led by the incomparable Judy Teufel.  I decided that, to have lots of things to fire, I’d make little cups.  Something functional: how novel!

Not that Raku is intended for everyday use, of course.  I also raku-fired porcelain beads. Smoky little candies.

Here you can better see the effect of smoke on raw porcelain (the outside of the cups) contrasted with the raku glaze on the inside. If you’d like to see more, check my Serious Artist Blog in about an hour or so, as I’ll be posting at greater length about this experience and some other artist-related business.

Only a couple of days (sorry Yoshi) after I came home from camp, we all went away to the coast, as Joaquin already told you.  He may not have mentioned that it was also our anniversary, and we like to celebrate things at the Sylvia Beach Hotel.  Also, I was almost able to eat like a normal person by then, so we really did have a lot to celebrate.  You probably don’t know this, but Joaquin is the best vacationer.  He just glows with vacation.  I wish it could be his occupation.

Because it was marvelously foggy everything on the trip was colored just so, from our Tennessee Williams room (where the fog seemed to melt right through the windows) to the counter at the pub nearby.  I spent quite a bit of time making things up about this map.

It was good for all of us to get away.

So we watched our “My First Place” episode at The Jupiter. Amusingly, the first place I went in Portland on the trip that set in motion the events that concluded with me moving here was The Doug Fir, the bar attached to The Jupiter. I don’t give much in the way of credence to the notion of synchronicity (although I do like “Synchronicity,” with the obvious exception) because it’s basically halfway to religion, but even I am capable of finding such things enjoyable.

At any rate, the episode was pretty horrible. I was fat as a walrus, and my head looked like a greasy sphere. Hazel’s hamming translated to hectoring in the editing room, and nothing interesting remained of the process. I took heart in the fact that the difference between my in the episode and me now constitutes a sort of testament to what a good idea doing Kung Fu turned out to be.

Ham an eggs on toaster waffle? Sublime.