Yeah for clay!

11 02 2012

Today was a methotrexate day.  Ick.  And truthfully, it didn’t feel great.  But, it didn’t feel terrible either.  In fact, I’ve noticed that the last few times that I took methotrexate I was feeling better.  I attribute this to the clay…

But no, I’m not bathing in it.  I’m making mask molds out of it.  Here’s my other secret:

I actually own a production company.  And as such, I get to work on some pretty fun projects….a series of poetry readings, a series of housing fairs for low-income folks, and of course 10 foot puppets to be used in an outdooR performance.

I love the diversity of the things I get to do in one day.  I go from emailing a very important client to getting myself knee deep in paper mâché to teaching media ethics all in one day.  It works for nature, which I might describe as part genius and part “ooh sparkly….”

Anyway, this past week, I’ve been working with clay.  And it’s very therapeutic.  I love the feel of it, and the feeling of accomplishment that you get when you’re finishing a layer of stuff.  I love the particular point when the clay mold is almost done, and you can stepback to see your work.  I love the sloshy sounds it makes while you try to keep it from drying out, and I love that my dining room is ow taken over, rendered completelyuseless for any kind of eating–thanks to the three foot mask and 75 pounds of clay that sits atop the table.  

It is this beautiful obtrusive, “look at me” object, that demands to be noticed.

And I made it.  Yeah for clay.


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