(total time today working on actual bowls: 0 hours)
But I certainly have well organized boxes of drill bits, nicely protected from rust. (I like the Bullfrog rust inhibitors.) It turns out that I moved all the firewood out of the studio a little early. I've been here twenty years so I really know to wait till May 1, but I wanted the space. This morning it was COLD. And damp - raining. I can work around the roof leaks, but I really didn't want to be cold. So I filled up my studio time with putting away new things, jotting down ideas for that third bowl, enjoying being warm and dry in the Nest. (That's the 8x10' "clean studio," a well insulated room built into one corner of my 20x32' studio building.)
Then after lunch I worked on the computer, earning money. Made some strides with laying out web pages, which will be useful for my "real" bowl website. It wasn't a wasted day, and I've been happy. The time just wasn't as "thick" as I prefer it to be.
Do you feel the difference, yourself, between "thick" time and "thin" time? Thick time has a kind of depth and richness to it. It doesn't run through your fingers. It isn't shallow or easily forgotten. In some Christian theology, "thick" time is a taste of eternity. (Don't ask me for a source on the theology, as I gave away the book, but it was a very small, thin book about having plenty of time.)
Is a taste of eternity worth being a little cold and damp?
10:09:12 PM 
|
