Last week while I was sitting at my computer (hopefully doing something more productive than playing solitaire – oh wait, when I play solitaire, my dreaming mind has free play because logic is occupied…so that's productive, right?!), I was visited by a huge flock of boattail grackles who chose my yard for a resting spot. 

The photos are taken through my window – luckily I had my camera at hand and ready to go, because it was phenomenal seeing all these birds in my yard!

The robin flocks have already been through and eaten the last holly berries (just in time to poop them out for spring growth – isn't nature efficient?)

We've never had these come through like this before and it absolutely made me think of Hitchcock's movie, The Birds.

We've also had the GREAT pleasure of regular visits by bluebirds to our little pond.  Alas, I have not been able to capture pictures of them – they are very jumpy and movement at the window scares them away.  Just yesterday we had two males and a female.  I have NEVER seen bluebirds in this yard like this and take all of it as a most excellent sign that great days are coming.

All the black specks in this photo are birds.  And this was only a piece of the entire flock.  I've seen flocks like this flying – sky full of birds – but, again, never in my own back yard.

This weekend I held the beginning of my first torso class.  I had two folks come to take it, Heather, who I do Body Politics with, and Connie who is a new friend.

These gals are super talented! I allowed 5 hours for the class (wanting to be sure I wasn't rushing anyone) and they were easily done in 2.  So they each made an extra tile/plaque and still left earlier than planned. 

I will show you their finished products (in about 2 weeks or so), but for now, have a look at their torsos on the drying rack.  Saturday they made the torsos, then Sunday they had to come back to take their torso off it's armature.  Both live far away, and it's a 5 minute bit of work, but it's very important to get the feel of how to handle the torsos since it's such a big piece.  It can't stay on the armature because clay shrinks as it dries and if it is on the armature, something will crack.  It can't come off immediately because it isn't still enough to hold its shape.

I've worked out that in my studio, with a dehumidifier and a small fan, it is an overnight dry.  A lot depends on the environment…in the summer there's more humidity, in the winter the air is naturally drier.  Both, as you can see, got their pieces off just fine and placed them to dry (all part of the lesson).  Next Saturday the clay will be bone dry and they will come back to learn about and use glazes.  I'll also demonstrate cold finishing with my favorite:  Minwax water-based wood stain, accented with rub-n-buff colors (my favorite is Chinese Red).  So far they are both delighted with what they learned and the product.  Which makes me double delighted!

And of course I have played with beads.  I am going through 80 lb oxygen bottles in 4 hours which is nothing so I broke down and ordered a refurbished oxygen generator.  What can I say?  I'm an addict.  Hopefully at some point this will all pay itself back.  Now all I need is a small kiln….and birthday is coming.

The little brown goddess bead is winging her way toward Paris, France, to live with Andrea.

In celebration of "word" month at Creative Every Day, here's another poem from my chapbook, Shift (available on Amazon.com).

Crossing the River

The boat's bell rings itself; breathe in

before the wind reclaims the chance.

Five foot waves break upon the bow.

Breath out.  In the channel our craft is

caught time and again between crest

and slough.  Breathe in. (I am not

afraid). Breathe out.  No point in con-

versation now.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.

Last night there were owls in the island's

dark boughs.  There were no stars –

only shades of gray.  The blue heron

has huddled beneath the eaves, undisturbed

by the sleepless fog horn, wet feathers

grayer than the night, dripping.  Breathe

in.  Breathe out.  Beyond this water I know

there's land.  I hold someone's hand and breathe in.

thought for the day:  I never gained control of my mind – how do you dominate an ocean? – but I began to form a real relationship with it.  Through writing and meditation I identified monkey mind, that constant critic, commentator, editor, general slug and pain-in-the-ass, the voice that says, "I can't do this, I'm bored, I hate myself, I'm no good, I can't sit still, who do I think I am?"  I saw that most of my life had been spent following that voice as though it were God, telling me the real meaning of life – "Natalie, you can't write shit" – when, in fact, it was a mechanical contraption that all human minds contain…I realized its true purpose:  monkey mind is the guardian at the gate.  We have to prove our mettle, our determination, stand up to its nagging, shrewish cry, before it surrenders the hidden jewels.  And what are those jewels?  our own human core and heart of course.  Natalie Goldberg, Thunder and Lightning