Life as I knew it stopped abruptly in the early fall of 2017, when my husband of 30-odd years was diagnosed with a fatal illness. We spent the next year tying up loose ends, evaluating our lives, reminding each other and the kids how lucky we were to have each other, and just sharing time together. And we held hands. A lot. The outside world became distant, and work in the studio less relevant to the important work of sharing our remaining time together. In the end, we held hands and talked of love - and then all of a sudden I was a single woman again.
Nine months, ten trips, three clay retreats, and one class later, I’m actually starting to rediscover the joy of creating new pieces and series. Covered bowls and multi-compartment boxes are my current explorations. I’m starting to make time for the studio again. And - look - I even wrote a blog post.
I don’t know if anyone will read this, or care what it says, and that’s OK. It’s just nice to be back.