New works. These are 3-dimensional raku images. Slabs are sculpted from underneath and then carved, this maintains an equal thickness across the whole piece, helping to reduce thermal stress and cracking. These pieces are very personal. The product of turmoil and heartache, these pieces were a refuge for my frailty and vulnerability, when a challenger sought to destroy them. My metamorphosis in clay has brought me closer to my femininity and to the earth.

Who is this cloudy shell? Quick as the setting sun to change her color, I sometimes have no idea what to do or say to tame her into her frame. All these little missteps leave me feeling as inadequate as an unrequited lover. I watch my peers venture off and away on what used to be my dreams, loved ones moving on and around and becoming what they said they'd be. I've said I'd be a lot of things, but none of them have fully come about.

My interests remain varied, each deep into their own resonance, forgetting the vibrations of the others. I have staved off the big break by excusing and procrastinating. What a curse to be so good in a debate I believe in, because as soon as I'm tired of believing in what must be done, a nozzle is switched on and I can justify absolutely anything. I just want to be a little more unseen. I wish no one know my plans, and I could just show up in a few years with or without new pedigrees. Just me, more learned and aware, a few more scars, a few less friends, but content with the journey that is my own.

I guess to be more unseen is a choice. But it is not really what matters here. If it's the opinions of others that intimidates me, then there are two courses of action at hand. One, let them see less of what's planned, let them see more of what's produced. And besides a course of action, really I should just let this made up criticism dissolve.

Now right now, in the quiet dark living room, the air is spiced with lingering aromas of dinner. My glass is now empty and my teeth are purple from a rich Chianti, and I saw my brother today. A dreamer is sleeping in her room, and she keeps me on my toes and saves the skin left on my teeth after my zany antics have left me emaciated and alone. Outside the tropical elegance of southern summer keep my feet bare and my frame hung with loose linens. Is it okay to just want to live for a while, to want to feel what it is to live for the day, the way I'm inclined to? for now, I'll just stay in it. The past cannot be changed and the future is on its way quickly, so now is really all I've got. The opinions of others will not be swirling my dreams once my head hits the pillow. They will not feel the heat as I bloody knuckles to the bone on alternative life pursuits, but I am here, I can feel the sacrifice, and the impending abundance. Head held high, I will keep my eye on the prize. Beacons of light from my head beam signals, spawning cycles of circumstance to swirl back to me my requests. If we can believe in it long enough and work for it diligently, it will come. Now, to begin.