sorting, sorting…

Two weeks ago the 9th Annual Self-Guided Ceramic Studio Tour took place throughout the Phoenix Metro area and East Valley.  It’s quite a happening.  There was a great turn out at my studio – a lot of people, many familiar faces and even more new ones.

There’s a concentration of activity pre-tour: finish work, studio prep, exhibition deliveries and set up.  By the time the weekend arrives, the artists are just running on excess adrenaline.

After the tour weekend, I had plans to get several things accomplished at home that had been purposefully neglected until I had a minute to think straight.  Therein lies my downfall…I thought I would be able to think straight.  Nope!  Completely scattered.  Mercilessly distracted.  I had a list…somewhere.

The occasional inability to gather and organize my thoughts isn’t new.  I’ve come to recognize the precipice of this occurrence.  Either I have several projects coming to a close and the loose ends compete for my attention or there’s a new idea rattling around in my head (and my sketchbook) that I am otherwise unable/delayed to begin work on.  In the wait, I tend to elevate accumulated stress with the fear that I will misplace the idea somewhere between picking up groceries and remembering who needs which uniform – is it clean? – for what sport and “the tournament starts when?”.

I know that the ensuing weeks will allow me to sort through my thoughts – acting on the necessities and discarding the clutter.  In the tangled mess, I consider the process of revisiting existing work in a new way.  The idea was presented to me as recreating small portions of larger works to be sold at a lower price.  I did make a few.  They turned out wonderful.  Still, I had trouble separating the image I was creating from the original.  It became a little frustrating.  I found myself putting off glazing because I couldn’t move beyond the original work and I didn’t want to make copies.

I wonder if the guy at the gym that looks like Lyle Lovett knows he looks like Lyle Lovett.  There is an uncanny resemblance.

I need to change some signage at the studio.  It’ll take all of thirty minutes.

Order clay, bone ash and something else.  There’s a list somewhere.  I need to pick up wood filler.

Why aren’t they delivering the usual junk mail to the studio cluster box?  I was able to get the grocery store sales a day early.  Now…nothing.

I think I can suspend the back drop for the photo light box at the studio from one of the support beams overhead.  I wonder if there is a way to make it roll up on itself like grandma’s blackout shades so I don’t have to get the ladder out to retrieve it from 15 feet up.

My running shoes squeak.  I’m so sick of hearing myself walk – lest anyone misunderstand, I don’t run.  I heard a story about tennis player, Ana Ivanovic, who’s shoes squeaked so loudly during the Australian Open that they became a distraction for the opponent.  I thought that was silly.  How could anyone possibly be distracted by a shoe squeak across the distance of the tennis court.  Yeah, well…not so silly.

Pinholes.  The green glaze is pinholing.  I know I can eliminate them by altering the application.  It complicates things.  stupid pinholes.

Do I allow myself to retire forms that people continue to request but I no longer make – or haven’t made in some time?  Not sure why I haven’t made any.  One of the forms I stole for Dick Lehman any way – thanks Dick.  Maybe when I have a little extra time I’ll make a few.

So much more to sort through.  Sorting, sorting.