In my crates of pottery, which remained untouched in the chaos of packing after the last sale, I found a little bit of pride. Pride, but also my inner-critic. She's usually a constructive critic, though. In the silence of my second-floor studio, that looks a lot like an storage unit at the moment, my mind was loud with thought after thought. I can't believe how many times I've packed and unpacked this cup. I need to make more mugs with words. I miss the dots, I wish I had time to revisit them. Maybe I can create a hybrid surface design that doesn't take as long. This plate does not belong with the rest. How can I display these ornaments better? I need to get more bags. I need to clean this space. I really need to write an 18-page paper...
I am chasing that dream, and it's playing games with me like a puppy that's escaped the yard. If I go after it with too much intention, or too aggressively, it'll run. It's having a great time, and it has no idea that I'm not playing. I'm getting mad at it for being so hard to catch, but it's so damn cute, how can I be mad? Maybe I should change my approach and casually pretend I'm not interested. You know, a little hard-to-get. Just when it thinks I'm heading home without it, I'll pounce and take it home.
Anyway, what I'm after is a relatively clean space for making, an inventory system that works, and most importantly, the fulfillment I get from creating. It's that feeling that I miss the most. That right-brain workout. That time-passing state of mind that cleans up my headspace. It's not selling the product of my efforts that I long for...it's the engagement in the process, and all I have to do is move it from the bottom of my list to the top.
MMc Studio - circa Spring 2014
MMc Studio - today
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