Clay and Creativity on Independence Day

Yesterday was a very strange Independence Day, a day where we went to Lowe's late in the afternoon looking for the ever elusive pieces of the plumbing that my spouse is trying to construct.  Were we successful?  I have no idea, because our afternoon was going that badly.

When I look back on this year's Independence Day, I want to remember my morning.  I went over to the house of my dearest neighborhood friend to play with clay.  She had clay that needed to be used up, and I had ideas.  She also has glazes and a kiln--and an outdoor picnic table.  

We sat in the cool morning air, along with another friend of hers, and made all sorts of creations.  We all made pieces for a windchime (or 2 or 3).  We cut all sorts of shapes out of the clay and added all sorts of embellishments.  I have a vision for some small pieces that I can add to the yard, pieces with indentations that will also serve as mini bird baths.

I loved having my hands in cool clay, talking about art and process with friends, not talking about the state of the nation (we all know it's bad, and we all know the work that lies ahead--AND we know the need for creativity and self-care). I loved having an idea for what I wanted to create, but heading in new directions as the clay suggested.  I love that I am making one of a kind pieces.

I also delivered the mail to campers yesterday, also a treat.  Each area is decorated for the 4th, some with more handmade verve than others.  I love that the campers have friends and family who are sending them all kinds of mail and e-mail messages for me to deliver.  I love riding the golf cart in the summer sun.

We did not go to see the fireworks, although I did hear them later.  A bigger treat for me:  waking up close to midnight and NOT hearing any fireworks going off.  In South Florida, regardless of which neighborhood we lived in, there would be booms and bangs all night.

I like these reminders, in clay, in pine cones, in ribbons, and rocks, in found objects and manufactured ones, that the country has always been a cobbled together creation, in all its glorious messiness.  It gives me a strange hope for the future.