How I Make Some of my Smaller Sculptures (Warning: It's long!)

 The small sitting animal sculptures I make sell well, but they are extremely labor-intensive.  So over time, I have come up with a few little shortcuts to speed things up just a tiny bit.  By far, I' m not a good potter, but I have a wheel that I use for other purposes than proper pots.  I throw "body parts" that I combine to create many of my pieces, including the small sculptures mentioned above.  

Building:

I start by throwing a cylinder which I alter afterward and is made to be around the height of the intended body of the piece.  If you know throwing at all, I throw "off the hump," which speeds up how many bodies I can make in a relatively short period of time.  Each cylinder, before it is removed from the wheel, is altered to somewhat resemble the shape of, say, the body of a sitting dog.  I use tools inside the cylinder to shape the back, others to indent the opposite side to create the stomach and part of the bent legs.  Then I throw some size-appropriate smaller pieces for shaping into the head of the animal.  Then I let everything set up for a day or so so the pieces are not too pliable and slippery.

After the pieces have set up, I grab a lump of clay and shape other body parts, such as the front legs, the feet, the tail, ears, facial parts, etc.,  Then it's a matter of putting everything together, which is the longest and most difficult by far part of the process because I want each and every piece to be an individual, different from all the others.  I especially give the animal a personality, including how it holds its head, tail, whether it leans or not, etc. 

After the pieces are built, they have to set another day or so to "set up."  Then I can go back in with smaller tools to refine shapes.  And finally, I go over tight spots with a wet paintbrush to make sure they are exactly what I want.

The Slab Roller

I should mention the use of a slab roller, too.  Many of my pieces I make are made not from throwing and building exactly but from "slabs," perfectly flat sheets of clay that I either roll out by hand with a rolling pin, as one would roll out a piecrust, or on a large device called obviously enough a slab-roller.  It's also in my kiln room.  I cut a rather large section off a bag of raw clay, flatten it down with a rubber mallet and my fists to around a couple of inches thick, then run it through the rollers (imagine a very old-fashioned washing machine with rollers on it), to gradually get it to the thickness I need.  It doesn't work at all to try to get to the lower thickness too quickly. The slab roller is a convenience, though, not a necessity.  I used it more when I was doing large "production work."

The Bisque Fire:

After around usually a week, the completed built pieces are then ready to bisque-fire.  Bisque-firing is easier than glaze-firing because the only thing I have to be absolutely sure about is that all the pieces are "bone-dry," that is, that there is absolutely no moisture in each and every piece, and that my shelves are exactly the right height.  Most times, to be safe or when I have any doubt at all, I "candle" the pieces in the kiln.  That is, I set my kiln's computer to a timed low-temperature fire at a temperature around 200F, or if I feel they're most likely dry, 210 or even 225F.  I come back often to check for moisture by putting a piece of glass at the top hole in the side of the kiln to look for moisture.  These holes have plugs that fit into them during a full firing. In fact, I even test for moisture during the bisque fire up to around 400 or so degrees.  Each time, if there's moisture, I have to make a decision about how much there is and whether I can continue or stop the fire and wait another day.

To load the bisque kiln, I must always consider the height and diameter of my kiln, how and where each piece can fit most effectively into that space, and keep track of keeping the thermocouple (see below in glaze firing) clear.   Most top-loading kilns are narrow and tall, as are mine.  As I mention below (yes, out of order), there are many aspects that must constantly be considered when loading either a bisque or a glaze kiln (see below).  I know I should rearrange this description, but I'm tired and all the info is here, albeit a little out of order.

Painting:

Preliminary Painting, Blocking Out:

Of course, after the bisque-fire is completed, I have to paint every piece, and it's really, really difficult, especially on these smaller pieces.  This is where my turning table comes into great use by maximizing my time to painting and not moving around too much to do so.  An aside:  I set a timer at around 15 or 30 minutes to, one, keep me motivated, and two, to get up and move around for a minute or two. 

First, I have to block out areas where I don't want any paint, such as the eyes and sometimes the tails, etc.  I do that with white underglaze.  

Base Coats:

After the block-out phase, I add base underglaze colors to all the pieces on my table; then I do a second coat (sometimes, depending on the color, a third coat).  

Keeping Track:

On each piece as I paint, I write in pencil copious notes about what I've already done (pencil burns out clear).  With so many pieces being done at once, it's very easy to forget which level I am, especially if I get distracted for some reason.  For example, I do a sequential hashtag:  a horizontal line for each base coat, so at least two, then 2-3 vertical marks for each layer of detail colors.  And I do a separate mark for dogs' tongues because they can make or break a piece if I make a mistake.  I write T1 and 2 for each layer I put on the tongue.  All of this I do in a visible spot that won't get painted over until the end -- or never because, again, pencil marks burn out completely.

Secondary Accent Colors:

After the two or three base coats, I add white onto the areas where I want to add another small area of color.  After the white dries thoroughly, I add the accent colors over the white, two to three coats again, depending on the color.  (Over the years, I have learned which colors need two and which need more.)  Many people use a "mask" on the bisqued piece which prevents the paint (underglaze) from adhering in masked places.  I have found that for me, an additive approach works more efficiently rather than dealing with masking processes.

Details, Final Steps:

Next comes the detail work, the most difficult part because I'm working in tight spaces with tiny paintbrushes.  As I work on each piece, I'm constantly checking to see if I've made a mistake somewhere that needs correcting, such as a stray brush mark onto the wrong space, an accidental mark on an eye, etc. This process is one in which my age interferes with the fine lines; not all the time, but often, my hands and fingers shake when I'm doing this process.  It bothers me, but I am a human, not a machine, and I think that's a positive aspect of my work, shaky lines and all.

Finally, I add the black spots on the eyes, which in this case I use two hands to avoid the shakiness I mentioned just above.  That's the most important part because it sets the animal's personality.  If I don't like how I added the spots, I have to wait until they're set up, then remove them, then again add white paint where they were before, wait for that to dry, and then try again with the spots.  And don't laugh at me; it's really important, and I think it's one of the reasons they're still selling after all these years -- because each one really is its own little personality. Many say, in my mind, "Hi, let's be friends; I like you."  Others are a bit more aloof, but I don't think I've ever done an angry one -- I take that back:  Some of my deep-sea fish definitely hate you or want to eat you!

Finish Painting and Prep for Glaze Firing:

When enough pieces are done to be able to do a glaze fire, I take them to my glaze studio, to my large glaze bucket, and add the clear glaze, either by dipping into (or brushing on, depending on the piece) the glaze, set or hang each piece to wait for each piece to dry enough to handle them, then thoroughly, thoroughly clean the parts of them that will touch the kiln shelves.  Then they need to rest again unti the glaze has dried.  

Loading and Firing the Glaze Kiln:

Finally, I load them into the kiln. If I make a mistake by not cleaning their contact surfaces well enough, the piece is very most likely a failure and must be most times forcibly removed from the shelf, and the shelf usually has to be ground or sanded smooth again.  

As I load the pieces, I have to make maximum use of the limited space I have in the kiln, which means I have to group like heights together for one layer, put flat but large pieces in a way that I can maybe add some small pieces around them, etc., etc., all the time ensuring that NO pieces ever, ever touch each other. I have to be sure that each and every piece fits into its kiln space both horizontally and vertically.  Sometimes loading a kiln can take an hour or more, sometimes even requiring that I remove a shelf or two and start over.  

The Thermocouple And also, there's this little very important device called a thermocouple that has to be considered as well.  It's the device that measures the temperature inside the kiln and directs the program to raise or maintain the proper temperature at all times.  If a piece is too close to the thermocouple, it can throw off the firing schedule enough to create a problem.  Plus, if the thermocouple is bumped (it sticks out into the kiln between 2 and 3 inches), it can be damaged and really mess the firing schedule up -- or fail completely, halting the fire, and requiring a replacement, which is a real pain to do.  Not only do I have to wait to have one shipped to me; I have to meticulously remove the failed one and replace it with the new one -- all in tight spaces.

I should mention that when loading a kiln, I have to constantly assess  not only toe separation of pieces on a shelf, avoiding the thermocouple, but also the height of the posts separating the layers of pieces in the kiln.  I have learned over the years that one needs a bit of "wiggle room" in the height, too, because sometimes a too-close to the upper shelf piece can have its glaze expand and touch the bottom of the upper shelf and ruin the piece. I have various things to help me with just the right amount of post height besides posts, such as broken shelf pieces, little flat clay pieces I've made over the years. 

Okay, I think I've covered most of the steps I go through to create several (a kilnload) pieces to fire a full load of pieces.  If you have any questions, please contact me, and I'll do my best to answer them.

Oh, one more thing I'll cover later:  What goes into listing each piece in my online shop on Etsy, which for my ceramics is the only place I sell them -- except, of course, the around four large orders per year I sell to my two galleries.

Kiln Results - Good

Ok, I forgot to take pics while the pieces were still in the kiln, so I have some piled-up pieces here:  First, all the "newbies' stuff was in the bottom of the kiln, and theirs came out fine and they'll be by soon to paint and glaze them, even the piece that had an almost 3/4"-deep base (I dried it for weeks!)

The next-bottom bisqued pieces are already piled on my paint table, but they're a bit visible in the photo below.  I'll start painting them this weekend.  

And the top couple of layers had glazed-fired pieces, which all came out well, too.  So my mixed load, bisque and glaze pieces, once again worked well, again at a slow glaze schedule.  I am NOT recommending this process; but in a pinch, which I felt this was, it worked out well.  Again, I've been doing this stuff for a long, long time, so I have more of a feeling for what will work, and I'm sometimes willing to take the chance.  There was one piece in there that was a customer request, and it was already late with it.  So she'll get her piece listed Monday, and all is well :)

Sorry, my paint table is always, always a mess, but it serves me well.  I think I've mentioned:  I sit in one place, and the table turns, and each round platform on the table turns as well.  Very convenient.

I'll be listing these pieces on Etsy over the next couple of weeks.  During the summer when business is slow, I only list a few pieces a week -- and I don't make as many pieces, either, although I try to make myself work more because, as with every year, the holiday season is just around the corner.  September-February are my best months of the year.  (I guess January-February are people who received gift certificates.)

Firing the Kiln Today, and Summer Doldrums

 Summer doldrums have already set in for me, and it's not even officially summer yet.  But I did finally get a mixed kiln-load of pieces finished.  (The following info might be too much for an experienced clay artist but possibly informative for a beginner.) What I mean by a mixed load is that part of the kiln (the bottom) is packed really tightly with pieces that are raw clay that has been completely dried; and since they aren't glazed, can be touching each other, even lying on top of each other in some instances.  The upper part of the kiln has been carefully loaded with bisqued (prefired) pieces, painted, and glazed.  I put the glazed pieces in the top of the kiln so that  in the unlikely chance that a raw piece would blow, my glazed pieces wouldn't be damaged.  (That has only happened once or maybe twice early in my over 30-year career as a clay artist.  Has it really been that long??) 

For firing, I set the firing schedule for a slow glaze fire, which causes less of a temperature shock to the bisque pieces.  Tomorrow, I'll report on the outcome.  A mixed load is not something I normally do, but I have been working slowly lately (retail sales are slow in the summer, and I've already finished my gallery orders for the summer, and I'm spending as much time outdoors as I possibly can because working in my gardens is fun).  I'll show a shot of the finished kiln either tomorrow or the next day, depending on how cool it is.

Another thing lately that is a little disappointing is that some of my new works aren't receiving as much interest as my standard pieces that I've worked on and perfected sometimes for decades, such as my dog, cat, and fish wall pieces.  I still love them all and make them regularly, but I also want to try new pieces that haven't been perfected.  Unfortunately, those new pieces just aren't as well received.  Plus, because each one is very unique, they take a lot, lot longer to make, and hence I have to charge more for them.  I'll continue to make them, though, because I enjoy doing it, it stretches my creative parts of my brain, and somewhere, somewhere out there is someone who is going to fall in love with at least a few of them from time to time.  It's something I've wanted to do for many years, but for the most part, I was doing only what the public wanted, and they wanted a lot of my standard pieces.  

I absolutely love these two cuties! Their names are Simon Slick and Samantha Louann, by the way.

I think I've mentioned that I used to have a quite large wholesale business, including employees, a huge studio to die for, lots of kilns, etc., etc.  It probably sounds great, but it was a miserable existence, I must say.  "All work and no play ....."  And for reasons that I have probably already mentioned, it all came crashing down (coincidentally, it coincided with the 9/11 attack, which just added salt to the wound)  After my business crash happened and I got over the shock, which took a while, I slowly and carefully, on a much smaller scale, started selling to some of my galleries again.  Only in the last few years have I mostly stopped selling to any galleries (I have only two now, one of which has come on very recently, and there won't ever be more).  

This is a rambling post, mostly because it's the "summer doldrums" and because I tend to wander.  It's so odd to know what I can safely say and what I cannot say, so I just wander instead.  Anyway, I'll report my firing results when I can.  In the meantime, check out some of my less standard pieces on Etsy sometime if you like (https://www.etsy.com/shop/DottieDracos).  If no one buys them, it's okay; I'll continue to make them anyway and display them in my own house because I think they're adorable.  Nothing too edgy or political; I don't go there at least publicly, sad to say.  

Yesterday, I orchestrated a 16-and-a-half birthday dinner for my granddaughter!

 My granddaughter's birthday is very close to Christmas, and all of us, her close family members, are usually really busy that time of year.  We've always talked about giving her a half-birthday, but it's never happened (except when she was six months old).

Our way of celebrating a birthday is to have a private dinner at home, with the birthday person choosing every part of the dinner.  She has chosen, no surprise to us, a sushi feast.  And for dessert, she's chosen her dad's family-famous cinnamon cake, created originally by her late paternal grandmother.

Making sushi might seem like a rather simple task, but not at our houses.  We go all out and add just as many goodies as a nori sheet can hold without exploding, or being too large to get into our mouths.  So we had to start at least an hour and a half ahead of time because veggies had to be cut just so and asparagus had to be panko-breaded, tempura shrimp cooked (yes, they're insects of the sea, so I have no problem eating them.  I make my own vegetarian rules!  And I'm comfortable with insects, not that I've eaten any intentionally, except for these specific shrimp).

For decorations, we had a "Happy ... " banner, and balloons, some full, some half-full.  The cake had 16 tall candles and 1 "half-candle."  Oh, and I stumbled through "Happy Birthday," skipping every other syllable."   

It was silly, I know, but everyone had a very nice time, and the dinner and dessert were excellent.

Oh, one roll was so filled that after it was cut, a few of the pieces did "explode."

Sorry, I didn't know how to blur her face, so I scribbled on it in edit.  Here's her simple-looking but delicious cake with the candles.

And here's one way-overloaded sushi in progress: (there's not quite enough rice in the photo.  I added more before I rolled it.)  No shrimp in this one, just carrot, cream cheese, avocado, asparagus, cucumber, and I can't tell what else.  We had run out of daikon, and it can't be bought locally, so that was disappointing.

Enough of this Morbid Stuff!!

 There was a popular song long, long ago called, "I'm gonna live 'til I die."   I should have plastered its lyrics all over my fridge!  Here are the most important lyrics from it:

I'm gonna live till I die
I'm gonna laugh 'stead of cry
I'm gonna take the town and
Turn it upside down
I'm gonna live, live, live till I die

They're gonna say "What a guy!"
I'm gonna play for the sky
Ain't gonna miss a thing I'm
Gonna have my fling
I'm gonna live, live, live till I die

The blues 'll lay low I'll make 'em stay low
They'll never trail over my head
I'll be a devil till I'm an angel
But until then, Halelujah! Gonna dance
Gonna fly i'll take a chance ridin' high
Before my number's up I'm gonna fill my cup
I'm gonna live, live, live, live
Live until I die

That's all for today.  It's a much better message than the previous post.

Lifespans

That's an awful thing to think about, I guess, but it is constantly in the back of my mind, occasionally in the front.  I've lived longer than the ages of my parents and all my grandparents, with most of them dying of cancer of one sort or another.  Fortunately, I have never had even a scare and am monitored rather closely due to the amount of cancer that seems to run in my family lines.  Positively, though, both my maternal great grandparents lived into their mid-to-late 90's.  My great grandfather died at 98 from heart problems but lived most of his life quite healthily.  I lived near them and knew them both very well, up into my mid 40's.  I adored my great grandfather because he was a kind, quiet person.  And one of the things I enjoyed most was for hours at a time, he would tell me about his life and what went on in the rural Southern farm country where he grew up.  

My great grandmother was not so friendly, but she loved me and I learned a lot from her anyway, especially about cooking.  Until their retirement, they owned and ran a large boarding house, and Grandmother was the boss of the entire enterprise, telling Granddaddy and others what to do.  She did all the cooking for the tenants, and she was an excellent and efficient cook and housekeeper.  I learned so much about cooking techniques just by hanging out in her kitchen and watching her cook.  Being a Southerner, she baked biscuits, lots of chicken and dumplings (which the dumplings always seemed to me to have almost no weight and might float right out of the huge pot she cooked them in, and she made incredible desserts, especially during holidays.

But she was an all-business person, whereas Granddaddy was always a very meek, quiet sweetheart.  Up until his death, his favorite "job" was tending a fairly small household vegetable garden, and he definitely had a green thumb.  Maybe that's why I always love to garden, just watching him at work in his garden.  

Regarding Granddaddy's garden, I did do one thing that was absolutely awful when I was a young pre-teenager.  Among other veggies, he grew huge, tasty, and beautiful turnips, and I always loved the turnip roots.  So I would sneak a plant out of the ground from time to time, pull off the turnip, and stick the plant back into the ground.  I often wonder if he ever knew I did that,; but knowing him, if he did know, he would only  have chuckled about it.

So back to my lifespan title:  How long will I live?  Obviously, any of us could get hit by a meteorite at any moment, fall off a ladder, have a car accident, etc., etc.  But, putting aside all those possibilities, I think we (I) most often wonder, and fear in my case, that we'll come down with some slow-moving illness or condition which inevitably will lead to our demise.  That's my greatest fear, especially with so many cancers in my family.

But there is also one condition I fear even more than cancer, and that's cognitive decline.  I think, like many people my age, I have situations of forgetfulness every day, oftentimes several times a day.  Those worry and frighten me!  I simply couldn't bear becoming dependent on others for my "care."  

I do everything in my power to avoid that most-fearful of maladies.  I exercise physically every day, always challenge my mind, I eat extremely nutritional foods, drink no alcohol (except for a sip of my daughter's wine from time to time). I get frequent medical checkups (there's never anything wrong except for a very small blood pressure issue that's been the same for well over a decade.; and I have dealt with hypothyroidism, perfectly corrected with medication, for over two decades.)

And I have a great purpose in life, too:  I absolutely love my work, if it can be called work since I enjoy it so much.  I don't make much doing it, but I look forward to getting started in my studio every morning, and I very often think about new ideas that I want to try -- almost daily, in fact.

Socially, I have my family just next door.  I don't have a social life outside my family, which I suppose is considered a negative, but except for my bouts of depression, which have existed my entire life, I have a happy, contented, full life.

So maybe all those factors will give me the opportunity to have many more healthy, happy, productive years of life.  My goal isn't to live past a time when I'm not able to live independently or with purpose; it's to be able to extend an independent purposeful life.  

Oh, and one final goal:  As I've mentioned before, I think, I'm reading Marcel Proust's "A la Recherche du Temps Perdu," (In search of -- or studying -- lost times), and I absolutely must get to the end of it!!  (It's the longest novel ever written, and I'm only 17+ percent through it.)

What My Blog is to Me -- and Why do I Write It

 First of all, I don't know how to write a blog.  I know I need to do some studying on it, but as with my artwork, I fear it might make me seem and feel fake, not genuine, not sincere.  And I think I'm lazy sometimes. 

Also, I don't even know why I'm writing a blog.  I think they're probably very outdated, actually.  

And how do I perceive my blog?  I don't know.  Maybe it's for my family, or just a journal/record, for myself, for "posterity," maybe it's a self-centeredness on my part.  Am I special enough to have a blog?  I don't know; I doubt it.  But I guess one could get all philosophical and say that, actually, we all are special in some way.  But I'm not that kind of person.  So I guess I'm writing  it for  -- who knows why.  I do get some pleasure from it, pouring out my often-jumbled thoughts rather randomly.  

I'm writing it because I want to.  Even if no one else ever reads it, I'm going to write it.  And I'll talk about whatever comes to mind on each day I write.  Some days I'll brag- or moan - about my artwork, talk about the process of creating a piece from raw clay, maybe about how I can make bread better -- and faster -- than anyone else I know, how I enjoy making "hot oil" for my granddaughter who spreads it on her toast made, of course, from the endless supply of bread I make for her and the rest of my family,  how I love my gardens, how I'm really fit for a 79-year-old, how I used to love to travel and did it a LOT - but am now too afraid to do it.  How a year ago I found out that I have a much younger sister (16 years younger) that I've never met and is the sister I always dreamed of having -- if I had known I had one, that is.  How much I love feeding the wild birds who gather in front of my house twice every day -- and the hummingbirds who come and go all day long and don't even mind if I'm around when they come to feed, summer and winter.  And how being old definitely has its drawbacks, but there are so so many positives as well. 

In Support of Doodles, Doodling, and Creativity

Doodle, what a funny-sounding word.  In my previous post, I mentioned that I made a couple of pieces inspired by doodles,  one by my daughter and one by my granddaughter.  I failed to mention that also the two birds I made based on a cone shape were inspired by a doodle I did some time ago and just ran across.  

I have a small kitchen table where I and usually, either or both, my daughter and granddaughter have coffee and chat with me for a while most mornings.  I have purposely set up the table to encourage doodling.  I have a tin of pencils, markers, colored pencils, etc., and always a sheet of paper.  I leave the same sheet of paper until I feel it's sufficiently filled; then I tape it to the wall for study - or enjoyment, or both.  It's just amazing what comes out of our heads sometimes when we're relaxed and "no one is watching."

Speaking of watching, now that my granddaughter knows that I'm "watching," she has become more reluctant to doodle, or more aware of her doodling.  I think it might be a matter of self-consciousness on her part, and I hope she becomes like a goldfish in a tank, unaware of my curious, eager eye.

This thought brings up another one:  Have you ever noticed (well, of course you have!) that you behave differently w!hen you are alone versus when others are around you?  I think I'm more creative when I'm alone and have no defined direction when I'm working with clay.  Quite like doing a doodle, in fact.

Which brings me to another though:  When I see the works of other artists, completely without my consciousness, I absorb what they have done in their works.  When I then go into my studio and begin one of my "freewheeling" days of "work," their works influence what I do -- negatively.  I think that's because it's not my style, whatever that is, but I have ruined many a potentially good piece because of having seen how someone else did something.  For that reason, I'm rather careful about avoiding others' artwork.  Obviously, it's nearly impossible to glimpse others' works from time to time just in going about one's day, but at least for me, it's best to avoid it as much as possible.  Many times, I just let the clay and my hands drive what I do.

I think I mentioned that I recently read a book that dealt somewhat with creativity, where it was mentioned that sometimes putting constraints on a project can even enhance creativity.  In fact, that's one of the reasons I tried the two cone-shaped birds I made.   I constrained my free-flying mind to think "inside the box" and rely on making something new out of a simple shape.

I want to end with saying that I don't think I'm some great artist; I'm not.  But I love what I do, and so do a lot of other people apparently.  It's not fine art by any stretch, but it's good, honest, diligent, decent, etc., work that I'm proud of.  And if one of my pieces makes someone's life even a tiny bit better, I'm happy to have had a part in that improvement.  I see my little pieces as having personalities:  kind, interested, non-judgmental, friendly, a little off-kilter, maybe; and I hope that's what others see in them, too.  They make me smile, too, even smile back at them.

New Glaze Firing Thursday Night -- and the Grand Opening this morning, Saturday!

 This past week has been a slow one.  Sometimes I just don't seem to have the energy to put in a good work-week, and this was one of the worst.  And it doesn't help that I had to paint an entire bisqued kilnload, either, because I have a gallery order in there, and it's due very soon.  It's funny; I really like building pieces most of the time, painting much less because painting is so nitpicky.  But this past week, I didn't feel like doing either.  I think I know why:  I really don't like custom work, and I have one custom piece in this kiln -- and I'm still supposed to be making several pieces for a custom request that I haven't even finished building yet.  Any time there's any sort of pressure on me to perform, my perfectionism, hence my procrastination, kicks in, I lock up, and can't complete anything.  It also usually accompanies or contributes to my depression, too -- so I really, really have to stop doing custom work!

I'll see how the kiln came out this, morning.  Unfortunately, I've had to learn over and over the hard truth that if I open the glaze kiln too soon, I absolutely will have some damaged pieces caused by temperature shock.  It's not as big a problem with the bisqued pieces, but still, I need to exercise more self-control!

Okay, I just emptied the kiln, and amazingly, no failures this time.  Yay for my waiting for the kiln to cool!!  It was 71F inside it this morning when I finally, finally got to open it.  I've been doing this for over 30 years, and yet   every     single   time   I have a terrible time waiting.  I'm like one of those little four-year-old kids in the lab experiments where they're left alone in a room with a marshmallow, after having been told they can get two if they can wait 5 minutes before eating it, and most can't wait!

The "realistic dog" on the left was an experiment.  I'm not happy with it (it's actually not as awful as it looks in the photo), but one needs to try new things from time to time.  I love the little guy on the right, though.  He was inspired by a doodle made by my granddaughter.

This bird couple and their cat was something where I played with a simple shape, this time the cone.  Both birds are mostly cones I threw and assembled into what you see.  The tiny cat was just something I pinched together one day.  These two birds actually have names:  The one on the left is Simon Slick, and the one on the right is Samantha Louann.  Sorry, the cat doesn't have a name -- yet.  (The names are in memory of two miniature Mediterranean donkeys we used to have long ago.  We called them Slick and Samantha for short.)

I absolutely love this bird!  Again, it was from a doodle done by my daughter.  It and the little green guy are going to have quite high prices on them because someone interested is going to have to pay more just to get me to give them up.  I often do that with some of my favorite pieces.  If you'll remember in my pricing post, the perceived value of a piece (how much I love it) definitely goes into my pricing of said piece.  And I have lost a few to good homes because of this.

My Small Gardens

 As I  may have mentioned already (my memory is definitely less than perfect these days), I have a small vegetable garden, four 4x12' raised beds, with some space on the sides where I have a mixture of plants, often experimental.  I have  large hollyhocks this year, lots of cosmos that kindly reseed themselves every year, whether in the right place or not, some struggling raspberries, and some daylilies that I've been trying to eliminate for years.  And finally, I'm trying something new:  I used to live in Oregon where delicious blackberries grew wild and often out of control, so finally, this year I have bought two thornless blackberry bushes that are resistant to the extreme cold winters here where I've lived for the past 10 years.   So far, so good.  They even have a couple of flowers on them, so that's encouraging.

My flower gardens are a grab bag:  I have some plants that thrive and some that I never see again.  I've learned to embrace and support the plants that get along with me -- within the constraints, of course, of their tiny plot of land that they inhabit.  I've learned that columbines, Icelandic poppies, sweet William (dianthus barbatus), coral bells, pinks (dianthus fuchsia), red peonies, rose campion, a lychnis chalcedonica (sorry, I don't know its common name, a tall spiky plant

one of my roses after a light rain

a mixture of flowers

dianthus fuchsia (bad pic)

with small red flowers on top), my beloved rose bushes, and, of course, the cosmos, which grows everywhere.  I'm sure I've missed mentioning many more, but these are the ones that stand out and that are most likely easier to grow than other flowers.  

Then my trees and bushes.  I have my hydrangea is barely hanging in there after two full years, two hawthorn trees that grow like weeds, a beloved redbud that has trouble with the awful spring winds here but otherwise grows well.  I have cottonwood, lots of willows, even a couple of small apple trees that I am growing from seeds I gathered from a "feral" apple tree in the woods about a mile away (its fruit is huge and so so sweet, but the deer usually get to most of the fruit before I get there.)  I have one group of three aspen that has made it, sometimes barely, through two winters so far.  I have a beautiful maple that I started from a tiny sapling many years ago, and one pine that I don't even remember where I got it -- a plant sale a few years ago, I think.  I have 15-foot tall lilacs and a large "snowball" bush.  Oh, and way too many currant bushes.  And two grapevines, only one of which produces small but delicious grapes.  And as with my flowers, I'm sure that there are many more that I'm failing to mention.

Oh, my, I must sound so boring!!  But I love all my plants, and we take care of each other.  I tend toward depression, and I can go out and spend some time with my plants, veggies and flowers, and start to feel better right away.

A group of Clay Newbies over the weekend came by my daughter's house

 Some friends of my daughter's came a couple of days ago to learn a bit about working with earthenware clay.  I set up a few simple projects for them, and I think they had a lot of fun.  Just little dishes with plant matter pressed into them kind of stuff.  One person made a small vase that was rather nice but quite thick.  I forget how much some things become naturally acquired over time until I see someone make this mistake.  The walls at the bottom sides are probably 3/4" thick, but the clay I work with is very, very forgiving, so I'll keep it in the sun for a week, and it should fire ok.  It certainly will be stable when in use.  I also made a really cute sitting bird from a single flat circle of clay, but I guess it was too intimidating, so no one tried to make it.  I didn't hang around after I brought all the materials and tools over, so I wasn't there to guide them.  They all were impressed with the kiln room, its two kilns, and the slab roller, though  :)  I let them roll their own slabs.

What surprised me the most, though, is that although I made the wheel available to them, no one wanted to try to throw something.  Maybe I'll post some of their little dishes after they're glazed and fired.  

I've always enjoyed teaching one thing or another throughout my "careers," so I enjoy just getting to do this little bit even now.  I taught undergraduate students while I was in graduate school, I did public school substitute teaching for a while, I taught some people the basics of writing on a stenographic machine (in one of my careers, I was a court reporter), and finally, I've casually taught some English to French-speaking people and French to English-speaking people, both enjoyable as well.

Update on Last Post about Driving

 Ok, I think I overreacted in my last post about giving up the car key.  I don't think this one incident should have any relevance to that decision.  My daughter and I went back to the "scene of the crime," and I saw things much differently this time.  Yes, I might should have waited for the car that blew at me as they passed, but I didn't realize there were two lanes in that area and they could easily have passed with no problem at all, so they were just being jerks, I think.  

I do realize that at 79 my reflexes, judgment (distances, speed, etc.), vision are obviously not as great as they were when I was younger, though, so it's something I'll keep watching out for.  

When Should I Stop Driving

 I didn't expect to be addressing this topic so soon.  My chats so far have been on the bright side of aging, but I had an incident a couple of days ago that has been keeping me up at night.  I had an incident on my way home from picking my granddaughter from school Friday afternoon, and in all honesty, I see a pattern.

On our way home, there's a place where I have to turn right off a quiet street onto a busy highway -- but just for a hundred-or-so feet, and then I have to turn left onto another street.  I got to the intersection, looked both ways, saw a distant semi off to my right and a reasonably distant car off to my left.  So I turned right, then realized that the truck was coming faster than I thought, so I had to put on my left-turn signal and wait for it to pass to turn left.  The car coming up behind me wasn't expecting someone to pull out in front of them and then stop, so they almost hit me, but instead passed me off the road on the right, horn blasting.  

This situation alone possibly isn't enough for me to be concerned about my driving judgment skills, but it's one of several recent incidents where I've put not only myself and my car's occupant(s) but the occupants of vehicles surrounding me -- or even maybe pedestrians -- at grave risk.    It frightens me and even kept me awake last night worrying about it and whether it's maybe time to relinquish my car key.

Of course, I looked online asking something like at what age is it time to quit driving.  And sadly but not unexpectedly, I got a lot of responses such as when to take the keys away from your parent!  Not when should "I" decide but when should someone decide for me!!!  (I'll cover THIS topic in much greater detail in the future.)

I have no answer to my own personal dilemma at this point, but I do intend to give it a lot more thought and drive a lot more carefully until I make my decision.  I also may ask my daughter and son-in-law to take over driving my granddaughter to and from school until I've made a definitive decision, too.  

Driving has for almost all my adult life been something that I absolutely adore.  I have driven cross-country  (literally from "sea to shining sea" - actually, ocean, but I'm "like that.")  more times than I can name, not because it's cheaper than flying (which it's not) but because I love the excitement of going around curves to see what's around them, staying in off-the-freeway motels and relaxing until I start the next day's adventure of seeing unknown, or pleasantly familiar, roadways.  

So what do I do?  I do not know.  But I feel a day of reckoning is near.  I do know one thing:  It will be MY decision, and I won't hang on until someone else has to make the decision for me.  Maybe it's my perfectionism looming.  I have always had to be perfect (or a total failure) at every single thing I've ever done.  Maybe other people, younger and old, have made similarly bad judgment decisions when driving.  I don't know, but it is something I need to address.

What I Eat to Stay Healthy, as a Vegetarian

 (As I've mentioned before, I have been vegetarian since 1991.  I have never even once wavered from my choice.  I won't go into the reasons for my choice again, but they were ethical reasons, period.)  

But I am not a militant vegetarian in that I don't make any public show at all about not eating "dead animals."   I know that term is annoying to my family, who are the only ones who have to hear it, but it reflects how strongly I feel about not harming other sentient beings.   And most people don't even know that I or any of my family are vegetarians.  Also, I don't preach to others about whether they should or should not eat other beings.  And while my family are also vegetarian, they're not as strict as I am.  They eat fish, and I don't, but I don't preach to them about their choices. 

Off the subject, but "militant vegetarians" for whatever reason they're vegetarian really annoy me and make us "normal" ones look creepy to non-vegetarians.  Usually, they're people, too, who have not been vegetarian for long and who probably will not stay with the diet, for whatever reason.  There's no need to make a fuss about it. 

To be clear, I am vegetarian, not vegan, because I do eat my daughter's chickens' eggs from time to time.  They are pets, and they lay eggs, and sometime even eat their own eggs.  Her oldest girl, Paddy, turned 10 years this spring, and we have many more near her age.  I don't even like eggs, but I try to use them in cooking because I do have to work to get enough protein in my diet.  I don't feel guilty about eating these eggs under these circumstances.

Here's my rather simple daily food intake:  Breakfast:  Every morning I have a high-protein large dense muffin which I make from a very modified banana bread recipe I found years ago on a flour sack.  I use more than twice the eggs the recipe calls for, plus a very, very generous supply of nuts, usually walnuts, sometimes some chopped almonds as well.  In addition, around 2/3 of the flour I use is whole wheat, and I add almond and oat flours, too.  The tasty ingredients include chopped candied ginger, which I loooove,  and a small amount of dark chocolate.  Sometimes I also eat some raw almonds with my muffin.

Lunch:  I buy frozen broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots and use those, along with whatever veggies are ready in my small vegetable garden, which right now are mostly greens of various sorts.  Later in the season, I will mostly stop buying vegetables because my garden feeds not only me but my family as well.  

Okay, back to my lunch.  I cook all my various veggies and add some sort of protein (super-firm tofu is my favorite, but also I use many vegetarian/vegan protein products such as fungus-based proteins, which sound awful but are delicious.  I also rely strongly, when I can find them, on shelled soybeans.  Rarely, I'll steam an egg or two if I'm out of my usual proteins.   For a carbohydrate, I use Asian either rice or wheat noodles (rice noodles are my favorite) or cooked rice, which is even more of a favorite than the noodles.  I make around a pot of rice a week and keep it in the fridge.  It heats up very nicely in the microwave.  To all this mixture, I add various seasonings, again mostly Asian ones because they taste best to me.  Oh, and for a good fat, I absolutely love both olive and sesame oils.

Dinner:  Most of the time, a repeat of lunch.  I usually make enough lunch to be able to heat up the remainder for my dinner, to which I might add more vegetables if necessary.  

Snacks:  I love the old-fashioned peanut butter (which I grind myself at Winco), with either apple slices or celery -- and, yes, I add "ants" to my snacks in the form usually of dried cranberries.  I also snack on small handfuls of nuts throughout the day.  

It's a simple diet, but I enjoy it.  Sometimes with my family, we'll make sushi, theirs with fish, mine all veggies.  (If you're interested, by the way, we've made our own sushi for decades, and I would be happy to describe how we do it and what we use, and where we get the ingredients.  Drop a note if you're interested.)

Recently we all had "decorate your own" pizzas, which my daughter made the amazing crusts, and we chopped a large number of options to put on the crusts, which we then cooked on the outside grill.  

I've followed this same diet, by the way, again since 1991, and I'm extremely healthy and full of energy.

Sometime, I'll talk about how we celebrate Thanksgiving with, of course, a totally vegetarian dinner.  It's delicious!

Again, Being and Getting Old and Still Working

 Note:  I posted a couple of photos of my studio in my May 26 post if you're interested.

I could just retire if I wanted to.  I don't have much of a nest-egg, but I have enough to live comfortably.  Granted, I don't want or need much, and my expenses are extremely low.  BUT what would I do with myself all day?  I love my gardens and reading and taking long walks with my dog and visiting with my family members, but for me that's not enough --  I LOVE my work.  I'm not a socializer at all, either.  Including my work, I have a full life. So I intend to work right up until I'm not able to anymore -- or until, oh my!, no one wants my artwork anymore.

I do feel, though, that my works are unique enough and in these days of a plethora of "art" that has never been touched by a human hand, they will always appeal to those who appreciate the work of someone who still does artwork by hand.  Plus, I have many regular collectors of my works, and I think those and other similar-minded people will always want what I produce.

So, to me, there are numerous reasons why I will continue to work until I no longer can, but I think that time is most likely in the relatively distant future (considering my age, my "distant future" is shorter than the average younger person's).

How I Price My Artwork

 I've been making ceramic pieces for over 30 years, so I've had a lot of experience with pricing.  There are many factors that go into what I charge for a piece.  I'll try to cover some of them.  And maybe it's because I've done this type of work for so long, but I don't adhere to any of the many equations floating around that tell you what to charge for a piece.  It's much, much, much more complex than any simple formula. The point is you (I) have to make a living but get reasonably paid for your (my) work.

• First, complexity of the piece, how long it takes to make it, how long it takes to paint it.  How much work goes into it.  How hard was it to make.  While some complex pieces aren't necessarily hard to make, some other apparently simple pieces are very difficult to make.
• Second, its weight and size; so how much kiln space does it take and what it costs me to package it and ship it.  
• Next, (not third, because these following considerations have no real order) how original is the piece.  How unique is it?  Is it a one-of-a-kind that I most likely will never make again?
• How much I must clear after all costs per piece to make a reasonable profit (I have bills to pay, food to eat, etc.)
• Referring to my original, standard pieces such as the animal masks and similar wall pieces, their popularity, literally how much people are willing to pay.  These pieces have survived and evolved over the 30-something years I've been making them, so they have over time a lot of work in them, if that makes sense.  
• How much do *I* like and value the piece?  This is a big one for me.  If I love a piece, I am going to charge more for it, whether or not it makes sense to others, because it's a one-time creation from my mind.  Even if I make similar subsequent pieces, which I may even charge less for, that first one is extremely important to me, and I think it deserves a higher price.
• Lastly, the "going rate" for similar items, in quality and style.  This one doesn't concern me very much.  I have seen some people asking what I consider a ridiculously high price for a piece, and maybe that works for them.  I've seen other people asking way, way too little for their work, which I feel devalues their entire body of work.  So there's a bit of "magic" going on in this last consideration.  There's a saying called "what the market will bear,"  which is variable with time, popularity of a certain style, the zeitgeist of a particular time, even larger, world or political circumstances, what's going on currently, has gone on, etc. 

I think this list probably only covers a small part of how I price my items, but it's a good start.  It's worked pretty well for me.  I know that up to the recent past, I've made some really large pieces that I alone could not sell and earn a decent income from them (the online market in which I have to sell won't bear the price I feel the piece deserves), but the "brick-and-mortar" galleries who bought them were able to make more than I would ever dream of making for them.  But they have the real estate, the clientele, the "scenery," etc.   So that's why I no longer make those pieces.  The risk of a flaw that would make one in my opinion not salable, plus the sheer weight and size of them, made them not worth it for me.  Oh, and the cost of materials, the cost of shipping, etc., to me is not worth the income from them.  I am a single person lucky enough to be able to do a job I love, but I can't afford to create pieces that would be too costly to create, to sell, and to deliver to the buyer.  

And one final thing:  I love, love my work, so to me that's the most important thing of all.  I can pay my bills, have some left over, and know that I, and the loyal buyers I have, love what I do. Especially those buyers who have collected my artwork over sometimes decades!

A Bit About my Studio

My worktable, a bit messy at this moment.

My painting area, very messy, all the time.

 Well, first of all, my studio is rather small, just one room where I actually make my pieces.  In it I have three main stations, plus a storage closet where I put in-progress pieces and pieces that are drying, waiting for the kiln.  First, I have the "building" area, where I keep my clay, hundreds of pounds of it,  and have a work table where I actually make each piece.  I have way, way too many small tools, but each one is useful in some way.  Some tools I keep in a small jar, and they are the ones I use every time I build.  Others, and there are many, are kept within reach because you never know when you need just the right shape to tweak a spot on a piece.  

Next, beside my building table,  is a smaller area where I keep my potter's wheel.  I don't like to just throw bowls, mugs, etc., but the wheel is very useful to throw, say, a dog or cat, or bird's body, a head of an animal, or sometimes just an odd shape that I need to support a complicated piece I'm making.  I might add that while my studio appears messy, I am very scrupulous with recycling nearly every dust-grain of clay.  

And finally, my painting area.  I have a largish round table, around 4 feet in diameter, that turns.  On it I have eight 12" turntables.  I put a single piece to be painted on each small turntable, so I can efficiently paint up to 8 pieces at a time just by turning the big table and the small turntables as needed.   

To the side, I have yet another turntable, around 2 feet in diameter, where I keep as many of my underglazes as it will hold (the material I paint onto the bisque-fired pieces), which I paint onto each piece before I glaze and fire it again.  The underglazes are I think the most expensive part of my business.  Each pint jar of my underglazes costs around $60, usually plus shipping, and I go through a LOT of underglaze.   I have to paint a minimum of 2 layers and most often three onto each piece I make, so I waste nothing in this area! And my brushes are quite expensive, too, and wear out rather fast because of the coarseness of the bare fired clay surface. 

Also, I have to add that I am clean but rather disorderly in my studio ("messy-desk syndrome"), but it works well for me.  I try at the end of a day of building to reorganize my worktable for the next day of work.  Same with my painting area.  I have "lids," clear plastic cups, that I use to cover each underglaze jar, and I'm scrupulous about being sure that I cover everything at the end of a painting session.  

In addition to my studio, I have a packing/shipping room, where I store and pack for shipping each piece that I've made and sold.  I also keep some boxes and packing materials in there, but the bulk of my packing materials are kept in yet another room, which is often packed to the ceiling with boxes, bubble-wrap, peanuts, etc.  Very expensive stuff!!  But I recycle as many packing materials as I can, too.  It's good for my costs, good for the earth.  Various galleries in my vicinity, in fact, call me when they have a reasonable amount of packing materials I can pick up and recycle.  

Finally, I have a kiln room, where obviously I keep my two kilns, my slab-roller (for rolling out large sheets of clay to an exact depth),  more shelves for in-progress pieces, and my glaze buckets (my least favorite of all my jobs, I think).  It's messy, fussy, often unpredictable.  In fact, it's the one area where I'm most likely to ruin a piece -- or at least make it less than what I'm willing to accept as a "good" piece which I can/will sell.  (Although, my granddaughter recently gave me a practical way to keep some of these pieces out of landfills:  I can offer them, a couple of times a year, at a greatly discounted price.  We shall see. I need to think about it more.)

This "Old" Theme Again -- Continued

 Anyway -- I tend to talk too long -- I got my master's and started my doctorate program.  Unfortunately, I had some major ethical problems (something that was recurrent throughout my experimental psychology/neuroscience studies) with a demand by my advisor that I do exploratory brain surgery on animals that were not anaesthetized.   I refused, released my lab animals (pigeons at the time), and left the university, never to return.  Further, from that point on, I became vegetarian and have been so up to today, and that's around 35 years now.  I won't get all preachy about it, but it's my firm conviction that I chose the correct path in this instance, even if it ended my neuroscience career.  (Looking back, I think it was the best outcome, even if I do feel awful about having given up on a goal I had set for myself.

On how I became an artist:  It turned out around this time that I realized my daughter needed to be home-schooled for a while due to some problems she was having due to her rather severe dyslexia, so being a single parent (her father died when she was 7), I realized I needed to be able to work from home.  Soooooo, with no training, I started making papier mache animal sculptures.  I chose this path because while she was still at school, she brought home a school project, a half of a milk jug, covered with newspaper and glue and painted.  That little thing inspired me so much that I began right away learning to sculpt with papier mache.  I did that for quite a few years and made a pretty good living doing so.  Some years later, I switched to ceramic clay and have been doing it -- and doing paintings as well -- ever since.  I did quit doing the paintings only very recently because I just found it too stressful, and I did prefer working with clay anyway -- and still do to this day.

Ok, on being old again now:  For you younger people, it really, really isn't as awful as it may seem -- really!  At 79, I feel physically fit and strong as I felt a couple of decades ago at least.  I'm sure things have slowed down a bit more than I'm aware, but I still do pretty much what I've always done.  My clay work is quite physically demanding (not so much as it was when I did the large sculptures, but I quit doing those for another reason besides weight, etc.), I walk at a quite fast pace at least a mile and a half a day, most often more.  I do strength-maintenance exercises daily, do physically demanding gardening daily -- because I love it! -- I eat well, focusing on getting enough protein and calories especially.  

My interests are wide, and for the most part, my mind is the same, although I do admit there I have mostly good days but sometimes some "slow" ones.  I especially forget what I was about to do -- all the time!  

And all these things are just normal things that an active person of any age would be doing without thinking about their age.  Oh, I do have a tiny bit of arthritis in my fingers, but they don't ever, ever hurt, just look funny.  Also, speaking of looks, that's the one thing that is absolutely different!  I think I've mentioned it already, but it deserves being mentioned again, I guess.  I look old!  It's that simple.  I used to be vain, so it serves me right!  Now I'm still learning to accept that it's okay to look old; I'm still the same person, so it really doesn't matter.  And I do struggle with keeping my weight up, too, which I hear is a common problem with old people.  But I've already mentioned that.  I need to make myself eat enough food each day.  

Medically, I guess you could call me lucky, but I like to think it's because of the lifestyle I live, I have had no major age-related problems -- so far, anyway.  I injured both a shoulder and a hip somehow but refused medical intervention and chose my own physical therapy instead, and the range of motion in each is a very little reduced, but it's no problem at all.  

Okay, that's enough story-telling and bragging, I guess.  It makes me think of my great grandfather, whom I used to spend hours at a time listening to him talk about the old times.  Those are some of my best life memories, in fact.  He was born in the late 1800s and lived to 98 (my great grandmother lived to 97), so I was lucky enough to know them both very well and have them be a very important part of my life.  My daughter even got to meet her great-great grandmother shortly before she died.

This "Old" Theme Again

 Well, tomorrow is my birthday, 79th.  I always get really really down when my birthday rolls around (way too often!), and I end up poring through all the years of my now longer life.  And I do realize that each day is another day gone, but birthdays are a milestone (yearstone?) when we take stock of what we've done, what we've not done, what we wish we had or hadn't done, etc.  I'm in that mode now.

I've taken paths that, looking back, I shouldn't have -- or should have seen them through, even though extenuating circumstances sometimes made me end some paths.  I've not taken paths that I looked at and chose not to follow.  What might I have seen/done down those paths.  

One path that I took I've often had a lot of regrets about.  First, let me say that I've had many "lives" in my life.  I was not the person who knew early on what I wanted to do and followed that path, straight and narrow, up to either today or retirement.  I was never cut out for that sort of life, even if it would have possibly given me a lot of satisfaction and a lot more financial security than I have today. 

  The path that I have regrets about is when in my late 30's I decided to go back to university and get a doctorate in neuroscience, which was still in its infancy but had already caught my eye. I already had a BA in English literature, but that was of no use to me with this new path, so I went back to school and got a BS in psychology, with a focus on experimental psychology.  With that degree under my belt, I went to graduate school for a doctorate in neuroscience.

I think this is getting too long now.  I'll continue it tomorrow.

Today, a Couple of New Listings on Etsy, and Gardening

 I listed the large dog with the stick in its mouth (in the photo a couple of days ago in the bottom of my kiln) and a small dog figurine that was in the kiln, too.  I try to list a couple of pieces every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  

Here's my Etsy shop if you're interested:  

https://www.etsy.com/shop/DottieDracos?ref=seller-platform-mcnav

I also still sell prints of my paintings from years earlier on Fine Art America.  At this time, I'm not doing any more paintings, but I'm known for changing my mind sometimes.

https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/dottie-dracos/shop

Gardening:  Lots of weeding and watering.  I have the usual veggie starts going well already, such as tomatoes, eggplants, serrano peppers (I love them!), and cucumbers.  I also always grow lots and lots of greens of every sort, and of course beans, onions, herbs, and garlic.  Oh, and radishes for my granddaughter - she's addicted to them.

Glaze Kiln Firing and Opening

I just opened a new glaze kiln firing this morning and thought I would show you a before and after shot.  I forgot to photograph the pieces after they had been painted with underglaze.  Maybe another time.

This firing was in my small kiln, so things are very crowded.  These days, since I don't make the large volume of  pieces that I used to, I most often use my small kiln.  To fill the large kiln would take me almost a month, so it's not often worth using it.

The top photo is taken after I've glazes the pieces.  They're still wet.   The second photo is after I fired them.  This is just a photo of the bottom shelf. 

 

Musings on Getting (Being) Old

 I'm old -- 79 years old in less than a week and want to talk about what it's like to get/be old.  I'll start with my typical old-person daily routines.    First of all, it's not nearly as bad as you younger people think it will be.  In fact, the only really bad part is that I can see the end of my life a lot more clearly than I did when I was younger.  The other pretty bad part I'll cover in depth later on, but it's the sad fact that younger people don't "see" older people.  Oh, and I'm always stunned when I look in a mirror and see an old person staring back at me!  I like what a famous actor, I think it was Helen Mirren, said a few days ago - she's 80 already.  Someone asked her how she felt about being old, and in a nutshell, she said great, that she was still alive.  I think that's a good attitude, and I can identify with it myself, too.

For now, here's what a typical day is like for me.  I wake up early because I usually go to bed early, have breakfast while I watch a couple of youtube videos that interest me.  Then most days I take a walk, about a mile and a half usually, unless it's horribly windy.  I can't bear the wind!!  I live in a beautiful rural area where walking trails are in every direction, so it's very enjoyable.  I always take my also-senior dog Ruby with me, too.  

Later, I do gardening (I have a great smallish veggie garden just outside my door).  I also feed hummingbirds and a large variety of seed-eating birds every day.  My flower garden in front of my house also needs taking care of, too, so I spend a lot of time with it. Oh, and I have a side yard that I take care of, too.  It has several trees I've grown myself, so I like to spend a bit of time looking at them.  

The rest of the day, I work.  I am passionate about my ceramic artwork, which I've done now for around 30 years.  I continue to explore new ideas and to learn something new nearly everyday, whether it be a better way to build a piece or some entirely new subject.  Lately, I've been creating some sculptures of both my granddaughter's or my own doodles.  They're so much fun!  I don't know yet if they'll sell.  If not, I'll keep them for myself  :)

I'm more fortunate than many single old people in that I live next door to my daughter and her family, so I do have interactions with them all day long, until around 4 in the afternoon, when I withdraw to my own house.  It works out great.  Having been a loner for all my life, I don't feel the need to have any other friends.  I had a friend for several years, but we have drifted apart, and that's okay with me.  There are times when I'm lonely, I admit, but I stay so busy that I don't think about it very much at all.  I feel that my life is quite full.

Every single evening I spend at least an hour reading, and it's one of the most pleasant times of my day.  I'm currently reading three books:  one by my favorite author, Emile Zola, and I don't even remember its title because I have his entire life's work and just start reading a new book when I finish an old one.  It's about a French priest who is in Italy for priestly stuff.  So far, it's rather boring, but many of his books are in the beginning.  

I'm also tackling the "world's longest book," A la Recherche du Temps Perdu" (In Search of Lost Times).  I've been reading it for months, and honestly, it's most often a total bore -- great for making me fall asleep -- but there are very often great parts that make the boring ones worth it -- he's really quite a funny guy!  And finally, I'm reading a current, non-fiction book called "Inside the Box," by David Epstein.  It's really interesting and covers a subject that has always interested me:  creativity and efficient work methods, too.  It rambles a bit, but it has a lot of interesting ideas in it.  I usually rotate the three books, reading an hour of each.

One more thing that I do and have done for many years is I spend part of every day keeping up my French language skills.  I was fortunate enough back when I was in my forties to be able to live and go to graduate school in France for about a year and a half, so I managed to learn a lot of French then.  I spoke no French when I arrived but learned very quickly how to speak well enough to get by quite well.  Also, I did come home from my lab at the university every day and study French language books, which helped a lot.  Anyway, since that time, I've only been back to France once, around 9 years ago, which was great.  But now, I continue to study, read French news articles, watch endlessly videos in French (by French people for French people) French novels, ((I'm currently reading the seemingly endless A la Recherche du Temps Perdu by Marcel Proust, etc.  It is literally the longest book ever written -- look it up!)  

I had intended to go to France this autumn, but this being 2026, but I don't think I'm going to be able to.  Glad I wisely hesitated on making reservations this spring.  I don't know anyone who speaks French here in my small isolated town, so it's just something I pursue because I love it.  And you never know.  It does make me sad, though.  I was so looking forward to going and taking my granddaughter again, who hasn't been there since she was 4 years old.

I guess what I'm saying above is that just because you get old doesn't mean that your life has to be smaller; it doesn't at all.