Past the Point of No Return

No, I'm not in Hell, but there have been days where I have felt like I might be. After ten years of planning, scrimping and saving all our pennies, we have finally done it. We have ripped apart our house and are in the midst of putting it all back together. The kiln--gone. The front porch--gone. The back porch--gone, gone, gone. We poured 26 cubic yards of concrete on Saturday to form the new footings for the addition. Lynnette, my very patient wife, will finally get the new kitchen I promised her eleven years ago when we bought the place. Since that time, we have dug out the basement, built the studio, mosaiced the gazeebo, and now, we are doing the mother of all overhauls. It is mostly exciting, except when it rains 17 days in a row. I've been wondering lately why I don't just move to Seattle--there certainly wouldn't be any less rain.

In the midst of my complaints last week about the weather and the delays it was forcing upon my project, I was hit in the head with a big slice of perspective. I realized I'm a wuss. I have a house, and though it is rather in a strange state at the present time, at least it and its contents aren't scattered across the state after tornado force winds. I am tired of the rain, but if that is all I have to deal with, I am happy for it, no matter the delays. Perspective seems to change a lot of things and most of these are lessons I find myself revisiting often and I tend to forget.

I have not been writing, but I have been thinking about writing and in many ways, at least for me, that is equally important. I have found that in the quiet of the jack hammer and skill saw, I am finding the answers that I need for the story that is coming together in my head--if not on the paper. But I am taking notes and I am anxious to get this project done so I can get back to my writing. Pottery has also been on hold for the past three weeks, but after a weekend show at the Cottonwood Club, I realized the stock I thought I had set aside for the Utah Arts Festival next month will not last until then, so I got back to work today, making more garden art and platter. I also picked up the ceramic fiber for the new kiln which I hope to install tomorrow, bringing me one step closer to having a kiln again.

I am not sure why I waited so long to finish this kiln. I built it last fall, at least the frame for it, and it has done little but collect dust since then. Perhaps I am still dealing with fear of the flame--something no potter should have. I built my last kiln over ten years ago and it took me almost a full year to get it to fire the way I wanted it to. I know more now, but each kiln in different and this new one will be significantly smaller than my last one, enabling me to fire more frequently and do more test fires and more glass--or so the plan goes. So, here's to fear, and trying to overcome it. It seems my life is a never ending battle with the fear mongers inside my soul. Somedays I think I'm winning, but you never know.

As in the past, I enjoy having people visit the studio, but because of the chaos that is my current life, please call ahead to make sure I am around. 801-883-0146. I can't wait to show you the finished product. Cheers and Viva Niederbipp!