Helen Arts and Heritage Center clay studio yesterday. In the foreground you see my camera, rolling pin, and my small flat bowl of tools I brought along with me. There are three other women in the class and the teacher. It's possible to sign up for a year's worth of studio time at the center for a reasonable fee. I think I'll sign up to take advantage of the work space and kiln firings till I get my studio set up. Signed up I can come and go as I please and have my work fired.
And the cats were languishing away in such cooped up quarters. I've been giving them lots of cuddles to make up for the trauma they experienced being so cooped up in the motor home. I knew there was an end in sight but the cats had no idea. I'm sure they felt as if they were in a prison with no possibility of parole. I think it was a bit of the same for me. I can imagine how someone in prison must feel. When they're released they can finally let the trapped feelings go and cry with relief. They want to go out and experience all they've missed while in prison.
When I got home from the clay studio I wanted to get right to work with clay and never stop. I brought some clay home with me but I made dinner instead, thinking about clay. I fell asleep dreaming of work I want to make and woke up very very early thinking of clay again.
So far we got a refrigerator, washer, dryer, bed, couch and are looking for a dining room table. We set up one of my plastic clay tables and two outdoor chairs in the dining area, before that we piled up boxes for a table. We've lots of unpacking to do but need to make some repairs beforehand. But all I want to do is work in clay. Meanwhile half the boxes are piled in the basement and the other half are still in the storage unit. I better make myself a daily schedule and force myself to stick to it so I don't neglect my household duties. Now I wonder where the coffee pot is? Thanks for reading and for all your comments.