New Man In My Life

So I have a new man in my life... and he's staying at my house now and again. This is "Homme. Inachevé," my very first attempt at human sculpture. Because my work schedule no longer allowed me to enjoy my self-taught exploration in "Advanced Independent Study" on Monday afternoons, I decided I would sign up for a Tuesday night "Sculpting the Human Form" course with a rather odd-ballish, yet talented, local sculptor. Although his teaching methods could use some polishing, I'm glad that I elected to expand my horizons. My "man" is still very much a work in progress... just as my life is.

I must have temporarily lost my mind (again) when I agreed to take on another remodel job for my now four-time hiring client. Now that I'm lucky enough to have full-time hours, finding time to get this project done has been more of a pain in the ass then taping off a room. As usual, her handyman guy has failed to finish his work... well this time he has failed to show up at all; so I have been forced to alter the project plans and will be working until the very last possible minute on Wednesday night. The tenant moves in on Thursday. So help me... if I even consider taking on another side job before the end of the year, someone please punch me in the face and toss me into inpatient psychotherapy!

Having my own laundry-list of tasks (including laundry) to complete at my own home, I feel as though I'm cheating on myself by spending what little time I do have sprucing up some place else. I've also been fortunate enough to have been offered a 12-month extension, full time hours, and a raise I worked hard to earn at my "regular" job. This isn't the time to screw up by putting all of my energy into a temporary side gig! And honestly... I'd like to spend a day doing nothing, if I so choose!

Maybe if I had a little more time to spend with this new "man" in my life, or, perhaps a real one (gasp), I might feel less fragmented, and more... fulfilled.

Mandatory Hiatus

I've gone and done it now! I worked so many long hours pulling together our team for the community-wide competition (part of my work project), that I was "forced" to take three days off. "If I see you before Monday, you are going to be in big trouble," my boss said with a smile.

A normal response would be one of excitement... mine... mine was one of resistance. I really wanted to get the event photographs together and send them off to all of our team mates; which would have led to more emails, press releases, post-event planning... and alas, more long days. Had I not been extremely exhausted from our two-day conference out of town, I might have fought harder, but in hindsight, I'm glad to have my mandatory hiatus.

I earned it!

On the way back from our conference, we got a call from one of the girls that had somehow beat us back to the office. It seems the highly competitive grant I conceptualized in the first few weeks I worked there, was awarded to our organization! Not only is it super cool that we got such a prestigious grant, it's super cool that I now get to keep my job! What a ride this year has been!

Tuesday night was the first night of my "Sculpting the Human Form" class. I was so frickin' exhausted from the weekend of competitions, the art show, and the conference, that I strongly considered "skipping." Not only was I tired, I knew there would be a nude model! Could I behave myself? Would I behave myself? Is it a woman? A man?

As it turns out, our model is a man wearing nothing but flesh-colored high cut briefs. Surprisingly, I kept my giggles to myself, even when I was forced to sculpt his buttocks! Ha! And let me just tell you, that if you ever want a flattering sculpture of your ass... I'm your girl. I can make a mighty fine ass out of wheatstone clay! I'll be taking my camera to the next class just to prove it!

Wednesday... Wednesday was a napping marathon; one my body needed desperately. I had finally come down from the stress and anxiety of months of solitary planning for work, combined with the uncertainty of funding for my future employment and a back full of torn muscles from a tug-of-war tournament. I was giving Rumpelstiltskin a run for his money!

Today... I slept in until 9:30 and made myself blueberry pancakes that I ate in bed. After becoming fed up with my state of sloth... I went outside and primed part of the last side of my house to be painted. I'm so very close to finishing this mammoth project, but so very very over it! Can't I just be done already!?

When I came in for a break, I was mindlessly searching the Internet. One of my exes came up in conversation a few weeks ago, so I Googled his name... only to find out he may have fled the country in lieu of litigation against himself and his company for "ponzi-like" schemes!! I always knew that guy was a schmuck! I had met him several years ago during a bout of weight-gain induced self-esteem loss from a back injury that forced me to drop out of college temporarily. At first, I thought he walked on water... and then I found out he just simply walked on people. He was obsessed with money and constantly trying to convince me that my way of life was for fools; that working for him was the only path to my financial salvation. I was drowning in tuition debt at the time, and gave some consideration to joining his company... but when I wasn't satisfied with his weak explanation of what exactly it was that they did, I thought better of it. And boy am I glad I did!! I stuck around for a few years trying to make him a better person (I'm so glad I broke myself of that idiotic habit) and stayed in touch with him sporadically until just a few years ago. Oddly enough, I remembered his birthday this year, and almost called him. Now, after reading posts that he may have fled the country, I'm curious as to whether or not he still has the same phone number, but I'm not going to risk being investigated by the feds just to appease this curiosity. This comes as no surprise, considering he wouldn't even donate a mere $5 to my fundraising efforts years ago. He was a shitty tipper too! Tricking people out of millions seems right up his alley.

I suppose I'll have to spend tomorrow working on my house. Either that, or I'll have to go shopping for new knee length boots. I might even have to meet a good friend for lunch too. Saturday, I'll be reunited with Chester, whom I've been on a mandatory hiatus from due to the holiday weekend, and then our big three-day competitions. Sunday? Who knows.

Putting Zee Foot in Zee Mouth!

Tonight was our "Raku" firing for our ceramic pieces. It's a no-frills Japanese method involving metal trash cans, crumpled newspaper and lighter fluid. Because I was away at a work conference, I had to join the beginners group for their firing tonight; a group of people I had not met before. Us creative "weirdos" have an instantaneous bond. Kind of like computer geeks, musicians, compulsive shoppers... you know... you just "get" each other. It's a very casual outdoor evening, with a pot luck of tasty creative cuisine, and intriguing chit-chat. Feeling right at home, I was being my usual idiot self.

So there I was, cooling my fresh-from-the-fire bowl, when I overheard a distinctively French accent. I looked up from my smoldering clay to examine the source of this melodic voice; only to see a somewhat attractive man. Hmmm. Monsieur Cute Guy. In standard dipshit form, I proceeded to ask where he was from.

"Here." He replied in zee Frenchest of French accents.

Yeah right. Half the men from this town can't even speak proper English, let alone pull off a convincing French accent. Explaining further, he said he travelled quite a bit while he was living in France and that was why he didn't specify his prior residence.

"What brought you here?" I asked curiously. I mean, really, I've been to France. The hell if I'd turn my back on that beautiful architecture to live in the armpit of America!

"My wife." He replied tersely.

Nice. I hit on the married French guy with a wife two feet away. Pretty smooth, Mona, pretty smooth.

'Bout to Bloom

It looks as if everything is about to bloom here in Mona's world. Potential careers, financial stability, affordable heat bills, and beautiful spring flowers are all slowly pushing their way up and into my life.

Just as I know there are gorgeous Iris blossoms in my garden by the fence... I still have to wait patiently for the timing to be right for them to successfully show their glory. I suppose this could be said of my job(s). Deep down I knew that one would come my way, I just had to wait, very patiently, for it. And just as the leaves of my gorgeous Iris blossoms are rising above the ground, so are my potential careers. But they need time... time to grow.

Saturday I sat with Chester. I turned the NCAA Championship on because I know he loves basketball. I fed him a sandwich, and had him sip on some pineapple juice in between his quartered sections of sandwich. While eating his last bit... he dozed off. Sandwich in hand. I chuckled a bit while thinking of how great a nap feels after you have enjoyed a meal; wondering if I'll ever fall asleep with a tiny morsel in my grasp.

I had taken my laptop over there to hone my Excel skills and discovered a wireless Internet connection. Score! This means that if Chester is napping I can utilize the time to get any necessary work done for my part-time job. Or, simply catch up on emails.

Once I had gotten home, I took advantage of the warm and sunny weather and cleared some post-fall-raking leaves from my flower beds. I absolutely love flowers, so despite not wanting to do the physical work, I was excited to unearth the bundles of green leaves that will soon be beautiful blooms.

Today, Sunday, I did a lot of my own napping. I was just tired! And if my schedule isn't proof enough that I've been working my ass off... then losing 3 pounds in one week should be! My weight loss wasn't planned, and I'm not on some "oh my God bikini season is approaching" cabbage diet... I've just been movin' and shakin'! Truth is, I don't want to lose more weight! I just bought four new pairs of pants!

Tomorrow brings another busy job-juggling week, and my last one without a consistent schedule. Monday, I'm working my part-time job, and going to ceramics for the last time during the afternoon. How sad! Tuesday will be my first full "regular" day at the full-time job, and Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday will be double-duty days. Saturday will be spent with Chester. Beginning Monday the 30th, I'll be working my full-time job Monday through Friday 9:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. and squeezing at least five hours of my part-time work into the schedule somewhere. Virginia was concerned that maybe she should only ask me to sit with Chester every other week so I don't get overwhelmed... but I assured her that I do not mind and don't find it tiring. Letting a 90 year-old woman get out and enjoy her life is worth any "inconvenience" three hours on a Saturday might cause me.

So "Desperate Housewives" is about to end and I'm relocating to my bedroom to pick out tomorrow's clothes and get to bed. I'm excited to see what's in store for me this week... and if I'll be able to bring in some fresh cut flowers.

Double Duty: Day 1

I successfully survived day 1 at Job 2, despite somehow mismanaging my bedroom alarm clock and cell phone alarm... waking up 40 minutes later than planned! NOT a great way to begin your first-day-on-the-job morning! I did have enough time to dress and shower... even to make a cup of my terrible, but cheap, coffee to drink on the panicked drive in. The morning air was warmer than usual, but not warm enough to drive with the window down. However, I had no choice, considering my driver's side window decided to get off track Sunday afternoon, leaving me to fret over when/how I could fix it before the rains came!

I arrived 10 minutes early, and 12 minutes before my predecessor. Shew! The day was mildly chaotic. Myself, two other first-dayers, and my predecessor/trainer, ran through the cubicles pilfering the necessary parts to assemble a functioning telephone and computer system. I now have ANOTHER desk, phone extension, ID badge and email account. Concrete proof that I do in fact have two jobs... at least for the moment.

Unfortunately, my ploy to finagle a four-day work week, allowing a solid day at the other job, was unsuccessful. SHIT! Plan B. I hadn't a plan B, but I quickly concocted one! My other job's offices are housed in a larger business' building so I don't think I can truly come and go as I please with my key card, but I believe I may be able to get in as early as 7a.m. When I was first hired, working at home was offered as an option... soooooooooooooooo... Plan B consists of reporting to Job 1 on Mondays and Wednesdays for an hour to sort through necessary assignments, report to Job 2 for my 9a.m.-5:30p.m. workday... work on Job 1 stuff when I get home for a bit... rinse and repeat. Okay... skip the rinsing, but you get the gist of it. I REFUSE to let go of that job. Not yet. They have been good to me, and I know they need the help right now. I will be able to honor my scheduled commitments for the next two weeks for sure, but I'd like to keep my toe in the door just in case I need to, and because I actually want to. I'll get to see how all of this goes when I break the news tomorrow morning...

After my three hours in at Job 2... I raced home and quickly changed from Betty Business to Sara Ceramics, and was back on the road before my engine even quit moving. I was frantically staining and glazing several bisque-fired pieces and sharing the "I may never see you again... at least not for awhile" news with my dear "dirt" buddies. I may be able to continue my ceramic adventures, but I would have to switch to the night session, and make new "friends." Frankly, I adore the ones I craft clay with now, so it's bittersweet.

Once the glazing frenzy ended, I raced off to my Mr. Fixit friend's house, where he dissassembled my car door panel and readjusted my wayward window. We also did a few other minor repairs, so my "little tin soldier" looks a tiny bit better. She's a ten year old car, with only 79,000 miles on her... but she's been in the wrong place at the wrong time and taken a few uninsured beatings along the way. But, she's paid for! If things go well in the job department, I just might treat her to a makeover, as I have NO intention of taking on a car payment anytime soon. I should be able to drive that ol' girl around for at least another 5 years. Gotta love a Honda!

Upon arriving home, the sunshine and warm air demanded that I clean out the garage, caring not that I had ZERO caloric intake for the day thus far. I had no time to eat! So while the oven was preheating to cook some cheap -and -easy -chicken, I swiftly organized some tools and supplies, making my exits and entrances a heck of a lot less dangerous! I won't have to worry about removing a stack of Styrofoam cups from the "spear" of my high heel as I rush out the door, ever again! (Don't ask.)

Now, it's nearing 10 p.m. I am going to select tomorrow's wardrobe, just in case I encounter another alarm clock debacle... and hopefully get some REST! I tossed and turned last night while trying to literally figure out my financial future with my cell phone calculator at 1 in the morning. But soon... soon I feel the stress and anxiety of bills and never-ending job hunting will come to a lull. The light is finally on at the end of the tunnel; and I can finally afford to pay the bill!

Last Day of Hibernation

Just as Spring is slowly approaching here... soon to be busied with bees, blossoming flowers, and slow growing blades of green grass; my life is soon to be busied with three jobs.

My "formal interview" on Friday (the 13th no less) consisted of "Nancy gave me the go-ahead to hire you, you start immediately." Huh? What? Whoa! I envisioned a long, somewhat boring, and tedious question and answer session with the typical hidden-motive psychologically analyzed blah-blah babble that most job interviews consist of. Afterwards, an offer presented, followed by me requesting the weekend to think it over. Funny how life never unfolds the way we wish it to.

My first thought after being arm-twisted into a permanent full-time job with excellent benefits and virtually guaranteed advancement opportunities, was "Carole is going to shit her pants!" Carole is the director I have been working most closely with at my part-time job. Project activity for the organization peaks through April, and the intention of them hiring me was to "prevent Carole from going crazy." I love the people I work with there, and I love the work that I do... but I also love financial stability. This is one of those times where I have to do something I'm not well-practiced in... doing what is best for me.

Crap.

Driving home from my interview Friday, I thought I might vomit on my dashboard! My mind was racing with the "what ifs," "what do I says" and "what are they gonna dos." I can't abandon the part-time job without notice. That's not an option for personal and professional reasons. They have been very good to me, and of course the pay is going to be hard to let go off. My new job has agreed to work around my existing commitments with the part-time job for my training, and may, may, if I'm lucky, allow me to work a four ten hour day work week... if so, I'll try to stay on at my part-time job once a week. I'll still sit with Chester on Saturdays. It's only three hours... and I adore them. I couldn't possibly take that joy away from Virginia. That one is an investment in karma.

So three jobs. Three jobs is the plan. In preparation for my intense week ahead... I've decided to hibernate today. My last day of hibernation. I wonder if bears are aware of their last day in the cave... and if they dread the busy days that await them? I'm going to have to learn a new job, new co-worker personalities, new on the way to work traffic patterns, fill out more tax forms... quit my beloved afternoon ceramics, figure out whether or not to still pursue the free tuition and schooling; have a painful discussion with my part-time job and negotiate a way to stay on with them... and hope that I am making the right decisions. I barely had enough time to adjust to the job I have... and now I've thrown another one into the mix.

What I just can't seem to accept yet, nor really celebrate, is the fact that in just a month or so... my financial stress may very well be over. I might actually be able to think about the future, instead of obsessing about how to make the most of $14 in food stamps so I can pay my heat bill. It still hasn't sunk in that I have the part-time job. How can I expect this to sink in?

"For all I know, they could say 'We were just kidding!' when I get to work on Monday morning." I told Virginia and her daughter on Saturday. Not very optimistic, I know, but I'm sure everyone can agree that these are very uncertain times in life. Realistic. I'm being realistic. And doubtful. Skeptical. Whatever non-believing adjectives you choose...

What I can do, is take it easy this last day. The last day of which I am certain about the goings on in my life. If I would have known they were going to throw the job at me on Friday... I might have planned some big to-do... a last hurrah before I jump into a three job, six day work week. It's been over four years since I have taken a vacation, and a solid year since affording one has even been remotely possible. It's going to pay off right?

Back to the "cave" of comforters, snacks, and semi-bad Sunday movies...

I See The Light!

Finally... Spring is slowly inching its way back into my life. I have always adored the warmer months, with blooming flowers, and the smell of grass under your feet... but this year... I can't wait for the furnace to quit coming on! That's what life has come to! The beauty of nature is now second to a more affordable heat bill!

The best gift of Spring approaching is the earlier arrival of the sun each morning. What a help it is to pry me out of bed for my new-found state of employment. Despite all of my efforts, I never seemed to manage getting back to "normal," while I wasn't working; and now after just under two weeks, with or without the alarm, I'm up with the sun...

It slaps me in the face!

I wanted to create a "breezy" feel in my bedroom, so I have very thin, white cotton striped curtains hung at my windows. They serve the breezy purpose well, but they aren't sleep-in friendly at all! If I desire to sleep in past the rising of the sun, I am forced to risk suffocation while seeking shelter under my down comforters. Sometimes I laugh at how quickly I would have replaced those curtains with ultra-thick, insulated, black sun-proof ones back in the wild night-life days! I remember hating the sun... and the obnoxiously chirping birds when I was trying to sleep past noon. Now that I have changed my misguided ways, I feed the birds, and enjoy the brightness, and soon to be warmth, of the morning sun. Growing up does funny things to you!

I went to ceramics today. I'm a little frustrated that they haven't fired the kiln since last week. I have about 11 pieces waiting to be fired. In fact, today I emptied out my once cluttered drying shelf. Everything is waiting! Susan and I stepped out mid-way through the "clay day," for our regular shit-shooting session, and while we were outside, she found out that I have never used the wheel to throw clay. "I really like the direction you are going in with your clay. You have such an eye... and it's really cool to see you developing as an artist. You have to throw. I bet you'll get it the very first time." She said. WHAT? I absolutely admire her work! SHE has an eye! And some crazy impressive skills! She studied art in college, and has worked with ceramics for more than 20 years. Me? I'm a complete novice who's only goal is to have my work not shatter in the kiln! The rest is like a bonus! My friend saw some of my in-progress work on my Myspace page, asked me if I sell it, and suggested that I join her for one of her open house gatherings to sell some of my work. What? Would someone BUY it? I'm not sure about that!

What I am sure of, however, is my unfortunate inability to really take any compliments in when it comes to my work. I may still be new with ceramics, but in the past, I have produced some pretty cool art stuff, that others have received quite well. But how can I believe that anyone would want my stuff, if I, myself, do not appreciate it? Why is there such a detachment with most anything I create? Am I that afraid of being self-absorded and egotistical that I have no ego at all? In my defense, I didn't really grow up in an encouraging environment. I didn't have a lot of "cheering on" as a kid... so maybe it's new to me. Maybe it's just something I have to learn. I had a famous singer/songwriter compliment me on some writing I shared with him, and even that didn't give me a "maybe I am talented" feeling. This numbness I have had is something that I have been acknowledging during my self-exploration-because-you-have-nothing-else-to-do time... and I'm very curious about it. But... as I begin to share more of what I truly love, what I truly am... a quirky creative creature... I become less afraid of what people might NOT like, and more open to the fact that they don't have to like it, but I have to create anyway... that's what I'm most happy doing.

Mrs. B and Sloppy Joe

Seven days. I have survived seven days as a semi-employed person, without getting lost in the maze of the hallway, getting confused over whom I have or haven't contacted, and, most importantly... getting canned! To "celebrate" my successful seven day survival... I received my first paycheck! HALLELUJAH! I may not have arrived just yet... but my train is nearing the station! This is the first paycheck I've held in my sad, and very empty, little hands since April 25, 2008!

I got my first dose of "office politics" today. I was asked to contact a marketing consultant, because the Director finds her personally difficult to work with, and thought that because this marketing woman didn't know me, that maybe she wouldn't be such a (word that starts with a "b"). Well. She was very wrong. I was appalled at the verbiage this supposed marketing expert used. She felt it necessary to point out how ridiculous it was for the organization to expect anyone to attend the event... more than twice. I was left to wonder why on earth anyone had ever chosen to consult her for anything other than the imminent end of the world. I tried to be "fluffy" with her... stroke her exaggerated ego, and appease her pseudo-genius; caring none at all if she felt I was sincere. After our "lovely" conversation, I returned to the Director's office to report the miraculously marvelous (cough cough) ideas this marketing b-word suggested.

"I can certainly understand what you were saying," I said.

"Uh-huh. So it's not just me!"

I rehashed the tennis-match telephone call, but refrained from telling her exactly what I thought of this woman I was forced to speak with. I've worked in catty, conniving work places... and I would rather not have to relive those experiences, so I have made a point to keep things as neutral as possible. Besides, it's always the bottom of the totem pole that gets buried and forgotten... and I need this job!

"You've got to tell Danielle this... come on." She said with a smile, as we began marching through the hallway maze.

Ugh. Here I go. Here we go.

A little circle gathered as the Director and I told the co-workers about "Ms. B's" pleasantries on the telephone. Thankfully, Danielle seemed to accept it as a legitimate complaint. Danielle said she felt that because Ms. B must think we are "pee-ons," that she speaks to us differently; concluding that this was not acceptable. No it wasn't... but I was letting it go before I found myself tangled up in a pile of cat claws!

After work, I came home, spun around in 3 circles; transforming from Betty Businesswear to Clay-Covered Clara... and headed off to the studio. It's safe to say I've gone a bit overboard with making the most of my extra studio time, and have completely lost count of how many pieces I'm working on and what stages they are in. I think I have three... no... four... waiting to be glaze-fired, and approximately four more awaiting a bisque fire. Add to that, four that I have drying on my shelf... and I have my own art show! Don't I wish!

I am definitely still a novice when it comes to working with ceramics, and I have no delusional expectations that my work would ever be called "exquisite." I do it for fun. To release my neglected creative energies from my previous life as a peace-pipe smoking, pro-peace-love-and-happiness, save-the-planet beatnik from the 60's. I don't even have a "plan" when I begin working with a slab of clay. I wait for it to "speak" to me, and tell me what it wants to be.

NO!

I am not on drugs.

Right now I am just trying to learn by trial and error, and master the few skills I have acquired through my casual pursuit of ceramics. This go-round, I've been experimenting with carving methods, with no rhyme or reason; as you can see from the picture below... well... okay... above. Apparently, I'm not cool enough to know how to place photos within my text!

Anyway...

After I finished playing in the mud, I came home to my sloppy house, and made Sloppy Joes. I spied a can of "Manwhich BOLD" on the shelf at the grocery store and found myself hypnotized by the imagined taste of these spicy sloppy joes. Next thing you know, I have a can in my cart, and I'm anxiously waiting for my leftovers to run out so I can eat them in real life! Tonight was the night. And they were tasty! Of course I had to alter the "recipe," so I added diced yellow onion. It was 1/4 of and onion, and it needed to be used, I swear!

Sloppy. That's what I've become, at home, since I've been mingling with the outsiders in the outside world. My current state of scattered-about-ness is nothing that can't be remedied with an hour of cleaning with the music cranked. It just appears sloppy. Like my dinner... which I did, by the way, eat at the table. I have not become irreparably uncivilized... I'm just adjusting to my new life as an almost working woman. I promise I'll clean up my act by Saturday. Swear.

Naughty Me...

I'm being naughty. Staying up past my "bedtime." I was playing Scrabble against "HottieScottie13" and lost my connection, so I somehow decided that it was imperative for me to go through my cluttered email box. Why isn't going to bed on my to do list?

I wanted to mention that I have not forgotten my good deeds... well, literally I have forgotten to mention them. But... they are still on my mind and still a goal to get through this crazy economic disaster. Instead of trying to recall my silly episodes of kindness... I do want to mention my recent failure to perform a good deed.

Driving home from one of my "busy" days earlier this week, I passed a woman trying to shovel her driveway. Her face bore an expression of struggle, and because my neighbors tend to my snow-covered walks quite often, I thought it my turn to help someone else with the snow. But as I rounded the corner to my own street, I began to find quite trivial reasons NOT to help.

If I walk back with my shovel, it might take too long. (I'm sure she still would have been shovelling.)

And the interesting excuse...

What if she doesn't welcome my help?

Who wouldn't welcome help shovelling snow?! I've been thinking about this for days. I do believe that one reason people don't help one another more readily is because our lives have become so cluttered and self-seeking, that strangers do in fact become strange to us. What would she really have done to me? Push my face in the snow and cuss me out for being so nice? I would have had a shovel in hand to defend myself! And since one of my goals is to help preserve the safety and pleasantries of the neighborhood, why didn't I march right down the street to help her?

Tomorrow, I'm going to an elderly couple's house with a woman who cares for a 92 year old man. I'm going to meet the couple, because Saturday I will be staying there for a couple hours while the wife gets out for some much-needed her time. I am honestly a little nervous about it, considering the woman who cares for the man said, "All you can do is sit. He can't be left alone. If he happens to fall out of his chair, there is literally nothing you can do. And he has a "do not resucitate" order, so if for some reason he stops breathing... there is nothing you can do." I'm hoping neither situation occurs!

I was able to attend the open studio time today for ceramics. I trimmed up all three of my plates, painted little wildflowers on one, and decided to leave the other one plain before glazing. Afterwards, I found myself lacking inspiration and direction. So, I rolled out a big chunk of clay, layed it on the table in front of me, and waited for it to trigger an idea in my brain. I almost settled for more plates, although different in shape, but, I decided to place three of the forms next to each other and cut the clay around the edges. It has created a very interesting geometrical shape, that will become a wall hanging. Susan, a VERY talented artist, came over to admire what I was doing, and said she really liked the shape. Anytime Susan likes my work... well, it's like making your parents proud. One of these days, I'll remember to take my camera so I can share the "dirty" things I do in ceramics.