Here it is 4 am ish. I’m mildly freaking out because for the first time in 2 years, I’ve gone three days with zero orders in my Etsy shop. I know it’s my fault. I got sick for almost two months and just couldn’t get myself into gear.
And it’s okay, I have 22 open orders, all of the pieces ready to be glazed and fired except one. I need to catch up and have deactivated one of my more popular listings to give myself more time.
I’m feeling much better now. Still weakened but functional. Mostly. And hustling!!!! Here are some unfinished pieces I’ve been working on this week. Look over the ink. It burns out but I changed my mind about the design elements. Plus a little picture of my supurrrrvisor, Roxanne.
When everything shut down and we were all in isolation, one of the first jokes to make the social media circuit was ohhhh the extroverts must be in a world of hurt now.
For me, I feel rather guilty that the pandemic went so well for me. And I made an interesting discovery. Maybe I’m not an actual extrovert but maybe I have always been required to be extroverted in order to get by in life. The pandemic was a time of peace for me and mine.
The guilt I feel is because I know it wasn’t for others and so much devastating loss of life. For me though, it was the most calm my life has ever been. Who wouldn’t want to hang out with their best friend, watch television, make art, and pet cats all day every day? Oh! And get paid to do it.
I grew up briefly with Miss America 2000. Our hometown has her name on a sign going into town on both sides. Heather is a beautiful person inside and out. It’s a decent sign. A friend many years ago who didn’t know her at all was rudely commenting on her and we talked at length about why he was so angry at her. It came down to that sign.
He was jealous and assumed she was just a privileged rich girl, blessed with all of the things necessary to make it in life. She did have an awesome mom and dad. And they were middle class I think. No private jets. A lot of second hand clothes and handmade outfits. She was just a good person with a lot of gifts. She could make any outfit beautiful. She was an amazing singer. Lovely artist.
Really, she was an inspiring person. But to be jealous of these things? I guess I can’t understand that. I don’t believe I have the capacity to be jealous of another person. When I knew Heather I lived in a foster home and my foster parents went to church with her and her parents.
I guess with my background, you just really appreciate people who are genuine and kind. And she always was. I think she earned her sign. Though not because she won Miss America, but for being a beautiful person.
I’m not sure I need a sign. I make things that are permanent and each one will outlive all of us, in some form or fashion. Pottery is forever, broken or not. My potter’s mark is on each piece, my eternity forever imbedded in once wet clay, fired to outlast anything under 2232° Fahrenheit. I don’t care to leave a legacy. I had children but discouraged grandchildren. (Mental illness runs strongly in our family.) When I’m dead, it won’t matter to me and if anyone survives the end of times or the meteor strike… Maybe my broken shards of pottery will make someone happy one day and they’ll wonder who A was or why these pieces have little paw prints on them even though they’re clearly made by A. That’s good enough for me. 💜💜💜
For a little over two months I’ve been, let’s say, unwell. At first I was actually sick. For about five or six days. And then the fog and exhaustion took over.
I’ve been running on autopilot for the entire time. Barely functional. So tired and so breathless all of the time. Unable to seem to get motivated and just dragging my hind end around. I’ve still been making pieces and taking orders but I’ve been very much depleted.
I’m pretty isolated so when I got sick I didn’t get a Covid test and as the time went by I wondered if I perhaps should have. I’ve been extremely careful since the pandemic began about sanitary packaging methods and I’ve been diagnosed with mild OCD since I was 18, so nothing really changed. Except after packing up orders and getting them to the mailbox, I’d often go back to bed. Sleep until noon or 2:00 pm.
I’ve had insomnia since very early childhood and have functioned as an adult on 3-5 hours of sleep a day. Until March of 2020, when I suspect I acquired Covid from an emergency vet visit, before testing was available here and before things got wild. Then I’d sleep for 5-7 hours a day. A little nap around 2 in the afternoon. This though. 12-16 hours a day. Holy moly. Just wild.
Yesterday though. I begin to hope whatever hot mess I’ve gotten myself into has begun to abate. A regular sleep of sorts. I’m still not back up to full tilt but I feel like there’s a hint of hope in the air. I have worked the last two days.
Clay is relatively unlimited already. Given time, patience, and skill you are limitless. Recent technology allows for ai to preview inspiration. 3-D printing allows for endless perfect details. Computer technology allows a person to run and monitor a kiln from the restaurant down the street. A fellow clay friend uses ai technology to preview what he wants to create. One of my best friends 3-D printed cogs and gears for me to create sprigs to add to my work. I personally prefer to be with my kiln when it’s running. But from just these three examples, you can kind of get the idea of how tech has opened a relatively open ended job up even more.
I’d like to be able to turn off my overreactive empathy. Not all of the time. But maybe for the things I cannot fix for others, especially people I don’t even know. I find an unhappy person (They find me. I’m an unhappy person magnet. 😅 )and I’ll do everything in my power to fix what was never mine to fix. To the point of becoming miserable and unhappy myself and to my own destruction.
I hadn’t seen my sister for ten years until today. We’ve been getting to know each other a bit better via discord and she mentioned wanting to try a new burrito that was at Taco Bell but things kept happening and the burrito kept not happening.
Somehow we decided that a two hour drive to take her to get her burrito wasn’t unreasonable and made plans. Today we drove to Cincinnati to do exactly that.
We had a great time and visited for a few hours. I rarely leave home, having severe panic attacks after very short periods of time. Typically I start getting physically ill around 20 minutes in. I made it through with little panics throughout. For 10 and 1/2 hours!