4/7/26 - 4/11/26: Ruins dug up, but fresh.
4/7/26
These are some name suggestions I made for a new purple glaze at the studio:
Icy grape
Pale iris
Arctic lavender
Periwinkle dream
Light mallow
I feel like I get caught in these unsustainable ways of thinking. These loops of thought filled with the strange mental traps of anguish mixed with lethargy and meaninglessness and exacerbated by no sleep. When I wake up at 3 a.m. now I feel a strong urge to finish a drawing. The urge feels darker and about death. As in “I have to finish something creative right now because before I know it I’ll be dead”. It’s a kind of unpleasant urgency I’ve never felt before so palpably.
I’m looking for peace in places. I’m really happy about finding the clay studio I’m in now. It’s the most peaceful place I’ve found so far this year. It feels stable. I trimmed three pieces last night and, when I was done and walked to my car, a breeze was hitting the leafy trees just right and I cocked my head up and stared, transfixed.
The wind moving tree leaves around, at night especially, is one of my favorite things. Whenever I stare at this leafy occurrence my brain suddenly doesn’t have any thoughts.
I’ve been thinking of ceramic mobiles that hang from the ceiling. I still have to work on my Useless series, though. I made some accidents recently while carving down a heavy, hand-built cup. And now I really like the idea of a cup you can't drink from as a sculpture. I'll only be focusing on cups for this series. Start simply. Cups that look like they’re ruins dug up, but fresh.
I was reading a book recently that touched on the topic of usefulness and how it’s defined, especially in the context of capitalism. It’s a fun idea to think about and make creative work from. In many circles art as a whole is considered useless. It’s sad thinking of anyone walking around truly believing this.
My mom's cancer is so pervasively seeped into everyday life. I picture it like copious watercolor bleeding into paper.
Clay feels like the backbone to everything getting better. The beautiful glue. It feels so good to feel things through clay. I feel like if I really explained the importance of clay to people it might scare them. It’s dramatic. It feels like it saved me. Brought me back from complete despair. It’s serious medicine for me. People call clay a hobby but for me it’s a panacea.
I’ve written so much about how clay makes me feel, and I’m likely repeating myself.
My creative flow feels clunky still, not polished and pristine. I’m making slow progress though. I’m self-conscious about using the phrase creative flow. But when it’s truly in working order it feels like a flowing river, so it's an apt phrase unfortunately.
I need to clean and organize. And for a creative space it can take some extra thought to do this properly.
I shaved a lot of carrots and ceramics today. But not my legs.
4/8/26
I think the best simple word is ‘soft’.
It’s such a full word. It holds the world and all of life. It’s how my heart feels all the time. It’s the thing I notice most in others. Soft is dynamic and can have rough edges and feel complicated. It’s clay. It’s paint, pain, love, flour, hands, poppy petals. It’s there in every moment. Soft is who I am.
I think a lot about shrinking tiny and being able to walk around on the surface of someone’s hand. A lil’ hop and a skip on the palm.
4/9/26
Using a new toothbrush feels exhilarating.
Ideally I’d have an audiobook at the ready on pigeons when I’m grocery shopping so I’m learning something and I’m not so annoyed, but my current go-to book on pigeons has illustrations and is best suited as a sit-down read.
Tonight in the mirror, I assessed my three petite, scattered, burgeoning skin issues and I said out loud,
Pimples pimples go away,
don’t come back another day.
4/10/26
Some days I'm literally smelling the roses like a total dork.
I'm currently on an arugula kick. And miso broth with chopped up scallions.
My vegan clay friend got me eating tofu again, which I haven't done in ages. My favorite improvised tofu dish:
Chopped up extra-firm tofu
Chopped up cucumber
Arugula
Crushed up salted cashews
Sesame seeds
Sesame oil and soy sauce
Blob of miso paste on the side
I found information on the surname Schlong. I was thinking tonight it would be funny to have the last name Longschlong, but alas it doesn't exist. At least the internet doesn't think so. All I could find about the massive Schlong lineage was that they had ties to Wisconsin and have been in the United States since the 19th century. There were no interviews to confirm whether or not they were aware that their last name is hilarious.
I wonder how many people think they're psychic, even just a little bit.
4/11/26