Our hot water is back. I have a warm handspun (though not currently spinning)scarf around my neck (a lovely trade from Julie who now has paper dolls dancing around her office) and I simply don't care that it is 3 degrees out or that Christmas is twenty minutes away or that I have my eye on a grant application I oughtta write out or that I have more paper dolls to make, more books to read, more bread to bake, more friends to write to, more things to do than hours to do them.

oh well. I'm warm, healthy and alive.

I'm OK with that. You?

love,

Rachael

I just handed in my visioning (daydream) paper in the school counseling class I've been taking to test the premise that the more I learn the better I feel. Worked this time. Good class, good environment and this bunch of people is gung ho about helping kids. We all view school counseling as a way to listen to, advocate for, and be an ally to kids. There is so much need out there, it's nice to see people working towards solution.

And then the other day I had a crazy inspiring conversation with my friend Carol that made me want to draw, draw and draw some more. She's headed to Italy for two weeks to teach sketching and she and I traded inspirations and talked excitedly about ink and paper and pencils and how the sketchbook opens. I'm going to be stepping away from wet clay for a bit, so I can jump right back into my old faithful sketchbook. We talked Danny and Keri and I wish I'd remebered to tell her about Katie . Carol told me about the concertina queen Hedi Kyle. And even though I haven't been able to successfully download my pocketmod, I am going to make one of these pronto.

Our hot water heater is kaput. Well maybe it's a fuse. It's OK because greasy hair looks good on me and who needs a hot shower at home when one has friends and family who offer. We'll figure it out but the "you never know until you buy one" story about how houses fall apart when you move in is slightly resounding with us. We still love the house, of course, but we can't call the landlord when it's ours.

may you enjoy life and hot water,
Rachael

The more I think about clay, the more mud under my fingernails, the more I spend time with potters, I am pulled towards Alfred. The college in the corner of my state where clay reigns supreme and Binns used to teach. He taught the teachers of the teachers of my teachers (I think) and his name is on the museum where I wish I'd be able to get to see Eva in time.
No luck, though, too much to do and too little time but it is all very very inspiring for a painter who secretly wants to be potter. Well, actually I want to do both. Inspiring ceramicists are all over the place (like Susan Peterson and Val Cushing.) I want to look 'em all up and listen and read and look and try to make...
But first I have to finish my paper for the counseling class I've been taking. It really is all about helping people, I think.
Take good care,
Rachael

Ah! All the show and tell is done and I've just stepped away from two lovely hours spilling paint in my cozy studio. There is the smell of bread baking (with egg in it to taste better I'm told) and I am still so gleeful from all the fun of the past few days. The folks at Art Bars are awesome and put together a great show. I was thrilled to meet the other candy bar artists and see some nice work up close. And then with the help of some very talented teachers and artists we had a great Open House at the art school. My face sorta hurts from smiling but it was worth it to see so many kids and adults brush off the silly idea that they "can't make art" and simply sit down at a table and paint, sit down at a wheel and throw, and make some lovely copper enamel earrings.
I am almost ready to believe it is December and I have to say that I miss me some Toni, some Deb, some Wendy, some Margo but even without the girlfriends, I'm feeling great.
May you have a wonderful day, weekend, week, month, you name it. Don't matter. Just enjoy!
take care,
rachael

I spent some time tonight drawing with a great bunch of college kids who are volunteering for a big open house at the art school where I work. These are kids (I use the term lightly, they're college kids) who have normal, get-a-job-kind of majors at a University that will look nice on their resumes and they are smart. Because the school doesn't let non-majors take studio art classes, these guys started a creative arts club. And because they kindly offered to help serve donut holes and wedge clay on Saturday for our show and tell, I brought some ink and pencils and small still life objects to their meeting to do a drawing boot camp. It's ridiculously easy and fun to draw with strangers. I urge it for everyone.

Now, this weekend is shaping up to be a bizz-izz-y one for me. There's the Art Bars opening on Friday night and the Open House on Saturday. Luckily, I only have to get dolled up for the art bars thing and that's only because my work is going to hang on a wall alongside Carrie's and that's a bit daunting. I'm daunted. So I spent my lunch break I running around looking for a fancy shirt and tomorrow I'll run around looking for a haircut. I'm pretty excited to see those chocolate bars, to meet the other 2005 artists, to spend some more time in the People's Republic of Ithaca. But with all the running around getting ready for all the show and tells and openings and open houses and new houses and all that...
I'm wondering why everything can't be slower. More mundane and less anxiety, please. But if you happen to be anywhere in upstate new york, I'd love to meet you this weekend. I'll be the one running around eating chocolate bars, in the new shirt, drawing with stangers.

Take good care and stay outta trouble,
Rachael