The Horned Demon

Dave took this picture of this deformed little baby that I made while I was waiting for the kiln to fire.

Yes, we fired a kiln on Saturday (babysitting it all day except when we went out to have dinner with Paul and Judi at the 66 Malt Shop where Judi and I split a Kansas City breaded pork sandwich and a green chile cheeseburger--yum!) and we unloaded on Sunday. There was some good stuff in there, all of it Dave's. (Though I did glaze four of his pieces, three of which made it into the kiln.)

While I waited for the kiln, I also put the preliminary coat of underglaze on that piece. (She was supposed to be a fox, but turned out to be a horned demon instead.) I also started a new sculpture that I worked on on Saturday and a bit on it on Sunday. It's another hollow, coil-built piece, probably thinner and likely to be larger than any of the other pieces I've made. (No pictures yet, since it doesn't look like much yet, just a base with a figure from hip to ribcage with no real features to distinguish it.)

On Monday, Dave returned to work after having a couple of weeks off, poor thing. Yesterday, I spent part of the morning with my mother and aunt, had breakfast with them at Weck's, then I came home and got in a nap. I haven't been sleeping well; had about three hours of sleep a night for the last week or so, supplemented with an hour or two nap during the day (which seems like enough sleep but is really not).  Dave and I met up with my brother for dinner at the local Japanese restaurant that is mostly a lunch spot but serves ramen for dinner four nights a week. I had tonkontsu ramen, which was really tasty. Dave had miso ramen with tofu. My brother had shio lemon ramen, which sounded strange to me but which he really liked.

After dinner, I came home and did some laundry and watched part of Four Weddings and A Funeral on Netflix. I adore that movie (despite the presence of Andie McDowell); hard to believe it's over 20 years old. I love the part where Matthew reads W.H. Auden poem "Funeral Blues" at Gareth's memorial. I start always start sobbing in anticipation of that scene from about the middle of the wedding just prior.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
    doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

That's rough, isn't it?

As far as NY's resolutions go: I've finished the London novel and started on Roxanne Gay's book of essays called Bad Feminist. (I'm liking it so far. She's got a very direct, plain-spoken style that appeals to me very much.)  I have also worn red lipstick every day, but at seven days and counting, I haven't made the slightest dent in my collection.

That's about five swatches short of my entire collection, but you get the idea of what I'm up against.

And I started plotting out my etsy account information, which involves dealing with Paypal (ugh.)

But things are mainly on track(?).