As I was up to my elbows in muck at work today, I thought about the notion of “redefining normal“.? I spent a good chunk of my morning recycling hundreds of pounds of clay for my ceramics class.? And, laugh all you want, I suddenly realized that while this was a perfectly routine thing for me to do, it was probably not normal for the rest of the civilized world.? And it dawned on me that fairly soon, it would not be normal for me either.

While I won’t call it a skill, there is a certain aptitude in digging clay from a bucket and working it into usable condition.? I know this only from watching my students, who approach the container with dread and lower their fingers in slowly and cautiously as if they’re reaching into a basket of vipers.? And they look away and wince, every time.? Before they touch the clay.? I’ve never understood.? And then they dig out a couple of fingernails full and pretend they’re done.? I reach in and slap another grapefruit-sized chunk on their hands with a cheerful “there you go!” before they have a chance to walk away.

If this wasn’t going to be my normal, I tried to think of whose it would be.? I did a little mind game, trying to think of as many other professions as I could.? I got as far as my friend who is a ceramicist, then nixed it because she probably has a machine that does this for her.? Nope, really — none that I could think of.? Then I tried to think of all of the other crazy skills I had learned in this job, and where those might be useful, but discovered that they’re really pretty “niche”.? For example, I am quite good at telling if a kid is really going to throw up, or just wants to get out of his next class.? And if they are going to throw up, I am rather adept at getting them escorted out of the room fast enough that it doesn’t happen on my territory.? I am also darn good at fake-remembering my students’ names.? Quite good, actually.? I can either get them to think I know it without actually remembering it, or stall them long enough that it comes to me.? Either way, they leave with that charming little “she does remember me!” smile on their face, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief.

The biggest change I will have to my “normal” is the sheer number of people I am surrounded by.? I’m a pretty shy person, so dealing with 150+ people each day was a decent system shock when I first encountered it.? Forcing myself to interact with each one individually daily, in two-minute chunks, is kind of like the teacher-student equivalent of speed dating.? To go from that to being solo will be a pretty big adjustment.? I guess being self employed is not just a matter of economics — there’s a social and emotional paradigm shift that goes along for the ride.

Still bracing, and making sense of it all.

[For the record, the above picture is not me recycling clay, but up to my elbows in muck after cleaning out a clogged downspout drain pipe a few months back.? One "normal" I'd redefine quite happily.]

one piece, a journey in pictures:

finished sketch

copper plate

transferring the design

marking cuts

marking cuts 2

patina

Copper Branch by Copper Leaf Studios

I read an e-book the other day on entrepreneurs and ideas.? (If that sounds vague, it’s on purpose — I won’t link to it because? a) I don’t want to do a formal review, and? b) I don’t want to admit what I paid for a glorified pep talk.? An incredibly GOOD pep talk, still… one I had to print myself.)

What stuck with me was the notion of “redefining normal”.? It challenged readers to take a good look at what is “normal” for them, and what might be perfectly normal for others — and what a huge range exists in something we take completely for granted (did you know that someone out there spends 10 hours a day in a recording studio, then kick-boxes for a few hours in the evening to relax??? That’s their normal.)? It then has you envision the “normal” that you want to become, and what preconceptions you have to let go of in order to make that happen.

I think this resonated because I’m still feeling a little trepidation about becoming self-employed (I don’t deal with change well; have you noticed??)? While I’m very excited about it, at heart I am not a “jump off a cliff” sort of person.? I’m more of a “hike to the bottom, carefully step onto solid ground, poke it with a stick a few times, then hike back up and hop down one rock at a time”.? Yeah, I know that makes me boring.? I’m okay with that.? I like to call it “pragmatism” or something else that makes it sound important or useful.? But, yeah.

The thing is as an entrepreneur, you have to fully continuously challenge your preconceived notions of “normal” — as it relates to work, home, the blurry line between the two, business practices, and a host of other things that define the edges of your personal puzzle piece and how it fits into a larger design. ? Not only do you do this as a means of adjusting to a new career style, but also because you don’t want to embrace everything that exists in traditional corporate culture — you want to make it yours, and make it better.

And the thing about “normal” is just how much we take it for granted.? This point was driven home on a professional level the other day when a friend congratulated me profusely on an upcoming show — having exhibited for some 15 years now, and been lucky enough to have artwork that has seen far more of the world than I ever will, a small but nice local show is just part of the landscape.? But to her it was monumental.? It made me realize just how varied my comfort level is between the things I’ve done and those I haven’t, even when they’re markedly similar.

So, here’s the challenge: list five things that are ingrained in your personal existence (bonus points for things that were not part of your comfort zone in the past)

The New Year is quickly approaching… did you know it’s the start of a new decade??? Just 10 years ago we were panicking that the world was going to end or somesuch thing because the numbers hit a nice round shape.? I’m not in for conspiracy theories, but I do find the symmetry appealing.? Aside from new year’s resolutions, what I really want at the start of a year is tabula rasa.? All “to do’s” done; all projects completed, a clean house and a deep breath before beginning again.? Granted, I’d want this at the start of every week too, if I thought it was even remotely feasible.? But having a two week vacation (a.k.a. “ketchup days”, as my friend calls them) makes it much more likely.

People all seem to have their own quirks about the new year — some insist on a kiss and a cheer at midnight, some watch the countdown, some have dinner with family… my dad refused to eat chicken on New Year’s, as it somehow doomed him to chicken dinners for the rest of the year.? (I’ve never understood exactly how this worked… though I suspect that last January One I must have had a LOT of tea and toast.)

I’ll admit to being a NY Resolution person though.? Not the immeasurable mushy sorts of “lose weight/ eat more veggies” resolutions.? (seriously, you wanna waste an entire year’s goal on something you could achieve by eating salad for a few days??)? Mine are more specific, focused… I spend a few days writing and tweaking them, in the hopes that if I take care to present them well, I’ll have the same devotion to seeing them through.? Okay, so it doesn’t always work, but I’m pretty good about it.? (I blame it on my “list” personality.? If making lists was a superpower, I’d be Amazing.? But it’s not, so I have to rely on my uncanny ability to Find Things.)

I won’t bore you by sharing my resolutions with you, save that right now they pretty much revolve around the transition between being “gainfully employed” and “gainfully self-employed”.? (It’s the “gainfully” part that will hopefully continue to pay the mortgage.)? So far, I’m optimistically nervous (it’s what I do.)? But still excited… about a new year, a new outlook, and all :}

………………………………………..all the best to you and yours in the new year! ?? C.

…of telling you to sloooooowww dooowwwwwnn.? (It probably needs to be blunt, because you are a stubborn one, are you not?)? Nevertheless, the message was pretty loud and clear this weekend.? After being ridiculously busy for two months, the past two days have been remarkably unproductive.? I have had just enough energy to move myself from one spot to another in between naps.

If you’re taking notes, let me point out that the moving is critical as the downstairs is heated by fireplace.? While you can start with a nap in the sauna chair, after about an hour or so you’d better relocate, as I’m pretty sure you can bake your eyeballs shut if you’re not careful.? Add a cat on the lap and you reach melting point that much faster.? Move to a few feet away from the fire and you can comfortably go for a couple of hours before needing to stretch your limbs.? Find it all a little too intense?? Grab a couch in the outskirts and you will find it a cool, refreshing 70 degrees (there are blankets within reach should you need them).? Accidental overdose?? Step outside into 21 degrees (what?!) and grab another bag of wood.

I’m pretty sure the whole 48 hours was a slice in the life of my cat.? I only got up to eat and go to the bathroom, and not even much of the latter as fireplaces by design dehydrate 75% of the 80% of you (which is handy, though not entirely comfortable.? Next time I will try to include a humidifier somewhere in the mix.)

By Monday I was so well rested that when I had to actually venture out to a business-y meeting with grown-up-y people, I had to keep myself from giggling whenever anyone spoke.? Not because they said anything funny, just because the big words tickled as they slid around in my brain.? (I tried not to make it too noticeable.)

Today?? Back on schedule.? My body has yet to realize that this vacation thing is a semi-permanent fixture, and decided to wake up at 5:30 am.? I’m good with that.? I’ll do Something Productive, and Clean Something that desperately needs it, and… I don’t know, bake cookies or something.

good morning…

today is a day to accomplish Something.
or a lot of Somethings (I hope).
It is a day to laugh at small children (er, with?)
and not yell at them.
a day to mail Things…
(hopefully a lot of Things)
and cross stuff off lists.

…and a day to give hugs, pet kitties, take hot showers, and all other Things Wonderful.

sweet pea photograph on nickel zinc

my blog has gone neglected in the past couple of weeks, for which I apologize.? So many posts being written in my mind, so little time to press the keys!? So lucky you, yer going to get the Cliff Notes version : )

the topics I would have written include a glowing review of the ArtCraft show, with its stellar “who I wanna be when I grow up” artists, and amazing patrons… a few stress posts on “omg I have so much crap to do but it’s all good stuff”… and a couple that rave about friends who are a rung above me on the ladder of success (I’m so proud of them!!).? I would have thrown in a few “check out this cool thing!” posts, and a couple “my daughter is a nut, but I love her” entries (shh, don’t tell).? I also would have secretly written, then deleted, a post or two on my nutball classroom kids, who are currently bouncing so far off the walls in anticipation of winter break that I may have to break out duct tape and strap them all to their chairs just so I can get ten seconds to pass out materials before getting bombarded by a cacophonic chorus of “whadarewegonnadotoday” screamed in 30 miniature voices.*

Somewhere in there I would have written something hysterical**, somewhere something embarrassingly mushy, and in a little corner, something that attempts to be inspirational.? You would have chucked a little, rolled your eyes, and hopefully breathed a little more fully, deeply.? So just pretend all of that happened… cause the indecision of what to write next when there were a dozen entries trying to burst forth was a lot of pressure.? I’m going to take a deep breath, start from scratch, and call it a “hiatus” so I can can pretend I did it on purpose.

* (now you know why I would have deleted it)

** erm… to me, at least.? still counts : }

rush to get there, be sure not to forget
bring the camera
and the pie
and the gift
oh, the Something Borrowed to return

arrive to open doors and arms
give hugs to friends, family
strangers I’ve known forever
the scent of cologne lingers on my shirt

table filled with mismatched platters
full of decadence
near piles of tin foil and plastic
and china dishes with plastic forks

hug and squeeze the children
my, how you’ve grown
pass babies between loving arms
generations converge

catch up with siblings
share stories around
I’ve missed you so
must do something
sometime

sink into couch
and watch life slip into slow motion

hug goodbyes
a little tighter, longer
thank you for everything

we’ll see you again soon

No worries; this isn’t a religious post.? I’m a live and let believe kind of person.? It may be an appreciation post; a “stop and smell the roses” sort of thing.? See, at some point this saying got distorted and lost its beauty.? It was originally intended to call our attention to areas of smallness, so that greatness could be seen through our combined meticulous efforts.

I’ve had a few roses come into my life recently that have made me very appreciative of all things, large and small.? I’m making a conscious effort to flow through life rather than rush, to notice the details and to do so with a sense of wonder and openness and amazement.? I am so terribly grateful for my friends and family, who make me want to squeeze them tightly and laugh loudly and grin til it hurts.? Yes, it’s near Thanksgiving, and yes I’m a mush… but if you’re reading this, you probably already know that about me.

So breathe a little deeper and stretch a little farther.? Pet a cat, hug a friend, kiss a lover.? Glide through the journey and rediscover the beauty.

…………………………… with love and wonder, C.

As I drove down the long freeway to work today, I rediscovered a song I had not heard in a while. A lovely milonguera with a smooth rhythmic guitar overlapped by a slow, saucy bandoneon. I listened as I watched a flock of geese ascend to higher currents in silent unison with the sun slowly rising in the background.

I suddenly ached for the unspoken world of the milonga. A place where communication is the press of a shoulder or the brush of a thigh. A world of long black dresses and slender heels with suede soles. Of melodies dripping across thickly waxed floors. The harmony of dozens of bodies weaving in circular patterns in paired unison.

I long for that simplicity… for the ability to flow from one path to another with instinctive motion. I pretend my living room floor is slick and smooth and slip on my dusty shoes.? I breathe in their leathery smell and do voleos and pulpos guided only by the furniture.? But communication is unfulfilling when it is one-sided.?

As the song fades, I take off the shoes and return them to their sacred isolation to be forgotten once more.