Wednesday, September 10, 2008

I just spent 2 hours catching up with friends via the blog-o-sphere and decided, that if I care enough to check them out, they might like to look at mine occasionally. I started this account just so that I could post comments on BikeSnobNYC's blog with a sense of ownership. . .

so last night I had this crazy dream. I know, you're probably thinking "you can stop right there", but whatever. I should preface this with saying that I've been playing video games a bit lately and the game I've been playing is Grand Theft Auto. I know that I'm 29 years old and that video games are "for losers" and kids, but it's an experiment, so leave me alone. My dream started out as just a repeat of the pre-bedtime stomping I was giving drug dealers, corrupt cops and old ladies on the street, in the game. Eventually, however, it changed and I was trying to get a job teaching ceramics to kids. . . how does that transition work? I have no clue. I had transported two room pots, in the style of Paul Soldner to this school that purportedly had a great ceramics program. They were works in progress and I was positioning myself so that the instructor I wanted to work for/with would notice that I could build big pots. The main problem was that the pots were greenware and I had allowed parts to reach bone dry, while other parts were still wet. As you know this leads to serious structural instability during the drying process. I knew this was the case and decided to toss them after my interaction with the instructor. The problem I ran into was that I didn't want him to see me toss them, because then he might think that I didn't value my "process" but unfortunately the clay recycling was located in the studio. I couldn't dispose of the pots responsibly without "outing" myself and so I had to throw them in the trash. It wasn't until after I woke up that I realized that it was highly likely that in a school clay program, they were probably using low or medium fire clay and since I like stoneware, I probably could have sited that as a reason for not recycling my clay. I'm such a sucker.