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Reflections…Week Forty Six

canstockphoto8630797This week has been a blur, a blur of waiting to be exact. The two things don’t go together in a normal sense, one being movement and one being the absence of it, but the mind likes to play these silly little games.

Routine is key to knowing what day of the week it is most of the time, spread throughout the week are group sessions, shopping runs, and if we, myself and Spot, can afford to go out, whether that just entails time to do the longer walks, physical problems make what used to be an hour and a half walk an afternoon now, or petrol money to get to a woodland area. And routine is what sets the pace, or the apparent pace, of time.

Rearrange one aspect of this schedule and the pace of the week can drastically be altered. And this week has been a doozy of rearrange and additions. The Thursday shop was on Tuesday, the Friday shopping place is was on Tuesday in addition to Friday. My uncle gets driven around to shopping and hospitals, usually Thursdays and at the end of the month, but had an extra appointment on Tuesday for his hearing aids as well as the end of the month one on Thursday. The Monday group was somewhere new, the Thursday daytime, prior going to my uncle, was shared between a cuppa with group friends at a church cafe, nipping round to another group to drop some things off and the American for the writing competition winner announcement. Well thats the blur covered

The waiting…Thats easy, as the Thursday shopping was on the Tuesday I didn’t require anything yet, so not in the mood for people, I waited in the car. At the hospital – both times – in the car, and the Friday shop – moneys a bit tight so I only got a couple of things and sat in the store waiting for my Mother and neighbour to do their shopping. To be honest I nearly went and sat in the car for the Friday shop, I have really been struggling to go out these past couple of weeks.

Today, Saturday, was different. Today I spent a day at the university open day throwing pots, something that has a major embarrassment memory from a school parents open day, way back then it was my first time I had been on a potters wheel and I may as well been trying to catch greased up eels coming from the centre. So today was to rid myself of that connection of embarrassment to the potters wheel. It was also a day to reconnect with distant souls, faces with whom paths have not crossed for a very long time. Also with it being an open day, our little group, and therefore myself on a potters wheel, was on display, again.

The groups run by Z are ace, there is an atmosphere of wonderment and humour, it matters not whether you are sitting on your own, spinning clay, or sitting in a group, sculpting clay, you are a part of it. Banter is varied to the clean and the shocking, well you have left me with no moral compass, Too shocking Too soon for the person the last line was for, welcome back.

Some could say I show off with the creative crafts, but I don’t do what I do to impress, not consciously anyway, but I do try to push my boundaries, in some cases I skip the basic stuff and go straight to the interesting. Today was just to play. I had no interest in bringing anything back home, everything was to be binned, emotion, shame, and whatever disaster was created.

I have, however, started a bit of — it’s not rivalry or oneupmanship, but it is – he’s done that I’m doing this kinda thing. I don’t think copper bowls will be satisfactory next metalworking class and the potters wheel is going to get a lot more advanced next clay workshop.

Did my creations end up in the bin? Only one out of the three, and the clay is reformed into a ball and used again, so not really binned as such. I have not taken any pictures yet as I am waiting until they have been fired, one has very delicate walls and my vase has a long thin neck but the clay didn’t feel right at the base of the neck once I stretched the clay upwards and has a high chance of it being an air bubble, thus blowing apart when fired. They are cockeyed but they did a great job of chasing away ghosts.

Oh I almost forgot, the writing competition winner announcement…

Is now going to take place at Christmas, I could have stayed at the cafe.

The reason — there were only two entries. The closing date was October 14th and they wait till the winner announcement day, and place, to let us know they new winner announcement time. But by telling me that there was only two entries they have tarnished the whole winning of it for me. Something that had a sense of achievement has now become a game of odds, good odds of winning. Creative skills have now been covered under a blanket of depression, to be dropped and forgotten about. I had been looking forward to being told I’d won, a rare self belief in what I had done, I don’t even know if I will bother turning up to the next winner announcement, the interest in it has gone.

Sometimes I feel the pinatas’ pain.

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

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