I moved to a new apartment today. It feels like I am on vacation. New room, on a new block, tired body, a warm night, the long day. Tomorrow I will go back to the studio after lunch after unpacking more.
Day One Hundred Seventeen
Time. Two nights ago at Salon Night we spoke that my time pieces might be related to the evolution of time. That idea did not come to me first and as I was thinking about this today I thought I see time differently. My relationship with time is instead quite choppy and incohesive. Unrelated things can occur at the same time. How I remember things and perceive time is achronological. We also talked about mold - I'm interested in colors and formations of mold - the pinks and blues and greens - The idea I want to use on the time pieces not knowing why. Someone mentioned that it could be the element of decay that I'm relating to them. Maybe. But I'm thinking today it is more like a forgotten piece of bread, a thing that can disappear from my life just until it reappears with moldy colors. Would anyone know the moment the mold just starts developing? Or mushrooms - would anyone know or ever observe the moment they come out of the soil? Now I am just writing about things that come to mind but when I work on clay I want and try to work fast without thinking too much. I just want to make and make and make. I would let thoughts go just as quickly as they come.
Day One Hundred Sixteen
I finally started making again and it feels good. Having spent a week without working on new pieces it felt like something was really wrong. I am working on time pieces which Kyle mentioned to me yesterday that they look like body parts. Now in writing at the table with the four in-progress pieces in white clay in front of me they do look like internal organs like stomach and intestine - vessels in the human body.
Day One Hundred Ten
I am still feeling off. Off of the schedule and of the daily routines. I have been restless without accomplishing much. It has been frustrating but not in a dramatic way whatsoever. It's just something is there - some say it's the allergy. Some other time it's the rain and sometime it's the humidity. What do I make out of this? There is nothing wrong about what it is. I can say it's because I'm moving but I have never had such an organized move in my whole life. I have been spending more time on a computer. I get to know more people by doing ceramics and I want to maintain the relationships. For me to do so I go to the computer and write emails and send pictures. And this makes me spend many hours on a computer hitting keyboard like the piano keys only that do not create a melody. I am spending less time making things with my hand. I can easily imagine a graph showing the activities of my day, represented in numbers, making a sharp downward slope for me touching clay. These days I am mainly making things in my head: I know what the next project is going to be about and the schedule and the things after that. I know that I want to do a show - and so do many of us - why why can't we just have a place to show. Everyone is busy and no one likes to be busy. Or do we? After the fantasy and nightmare project I'm interested in renewability - the ability to come out as something different but as an extension of what it has been... what we call a change is more like a transformation - a renewal, like a plant and that's what makes us keep doing because otherwise we will die.
Day One Hundred Seven
I can't believe I'm moving again. I don't know how many times I packed Moby Dick without going past the first 20 pages. I went crazy again and needed to clean the studio. Once in a while I have the urge to cleanse so I can think and start anew. I am not following my calendar these days and it is becoming vague and abstract and I feel things are going fast. I know this is not good for me but I don't know what else to do other than just ride it until I catch up with time. My life has been becoming more social. I have more opportunities to meet people and spend time to get to know them. Although I have no time to be phylosophical about anything at this moment - I have to pack. I have to clean. Making the last minute happen now before it becomes it is not easy and Cuban music is certainly not being helpful.
Day One Hundred Four
I started working on the next project, which is about a concept of time. I am throwing closed forms in various sizes on a wheel. After I make several of them I will modify the forms and assemble pieces together. This time I am going to work loosely - I will still refer to my sketches for the overall idea but I want to decide on forms as I go and see what will come out.
Day One Hundred Three
I made little progress clay wise today. I only threw a few pieces and recycled and wedged clay. The rest of the day I spent getting ready for the sale events. I want to sell them all. I want to create an environment where visitors can enjoy and take a few peices as a souvenir. It was Friday and it was Good Friday and there were three of us at the studio - it is nice to have a living energy in the space. Within just a few days it looked like the day has gotten extremely longer, the things are growing and the air is brighter. One of my roommates is moving out today. The empty living room echoes too much. I am moving within two weeks too. I do not have many belongings thankfully - I used to want to own many things and at some point that faded, not sure how or why or when, but I do not like owning many things. I was thinking about the oldest thing I own, which must be a pink sawn felt pouch with a flower pattern my kindergarten friend gave me. I still remember her name. I was short and she was tall and her hair was in braids. She was weak though, with asthma maybe, and moved to an even northern part of Japan when where we were was pretty north already. After so many moves, this time being probably about my 14th, I still have it. I have no idea where she is but I want to keep it. Something just stuck.