Old Pottery Pieces

 

 

 

We have lived in many places in the United States, many of them my favorites like New Mexico and Colorado. However, it was in East Tennessee at the Art and Craft Center in Norris, TN that I found my true calling. When I first observed what most potters made I decided that is not me...bowls, mugs and lots of useful things. I didn't figure they'd need someone else making these items so I switched to animals and Nativity sets. I was very successful there, sold out of three galleries and had some fun.

In the photo above you will see some terracotta-fired figures for the Nativity, some unfired pieces and one that was glazed with color. If you notice, the shepherd is also looking cross-eyed. I took this set to a gallery in Townsend, which is no longer there. I sold out of there with some success.

The gallery was in an old house and I was told to put the figures in the kitchen. Townsend is at the mouth of the Smoky Mountain National Park, separated by a valley from Pigeon Forge, Sevierville and Gatlinburg. It was approximately one and a half hours away from where I lived. I received a call the next day to come pick up the set because "Mary looked mean."  I drove back and picked up the set and ranted at the owner about the trials Mary and Joseph had trying to find a place to give birth to Jesus and told her if she had been Mary in those times she would not have looked happy either. I left with my head held high.

That same day I placed it in the gallery at the Norris Co-op and it sold right away. The day after that the Townsend gallery owner called me to ask me to bring the set back, she had a buyer. Too bad I told her, the set was sold and advised her I'd never bring her another one.

I have lots of stories like that to tell, but for the moment this is enough, another time I'll post more pieces if I can find the photos, I've never been a good record keeper and certainly never a fan of making symmetrical pieces, but each artist has to do what he or she fells like doing and most of us don't like anyone telling us how to do it or what to make

 

 

 

Jack's Quilt

Way back in the early 70's I met a young man, his name was "Jack" anyway that is what he was called, his name was "Jonathan", but we all called him "Jack". I met him as a fellow hotline worker at "Reachout, the Solon, Drug Abuse Center". Jack was 17 and when there were no calls we chatted and became friends. He had an unfortunate relationship with a much older woman who thought nothing of seducing a young man half her age then dumping him.  His home life at the time wasn't that happy, at least that's the impression he gave. One day we went skiing in Brandywine, an area outside of Cleveland, Ohio. We braved the lift and got stuck right under the snow making machine,  we froze our asses off. After that adventure we went to eat pizza. He looked around and with a frown said "what will we do if people think you're my girlfriend?" I laughed and told him that they'd view me as his mother, I loved Jack like a mother and like the son I never had. He said "then why don't you adopt me" and I said okay, ever since I thought of him as my "unofficially adopted son".

 Before long he joined the Service, he would write an occasional letter from Korea, it was always full of adventures and I would often caution him to be careful. He got out of the Service, and married a lovely woman, had three kids and now and then he would call and we'd chat. During that time I got an occasional letter and some photographs of him and one or two of his kids.

One day I came home from grocery shopping and my husband told me "Jack called, he said he loves you", he was on his way to Desert Shield. I was devastated that I didn't get to talk with him and started sitting in front of the TV, almost 24/7 watching war news and working on a twin quilt, I ran out of material and simply added other material whether it looked good or not. Before I received the news I had made a larger than King size quilt. I put it in an old trunk and forget about it, simply couldn't face it.

Time went by and my husband and I were on the way to Knoxville,TN. We weren't on the plane long when he gave me the Cleveland newspaper, on the front page was a blond, windblown woman in a bright red coat, sitting at a graveside in Arlington National Cemetery. It was Jack's widow and his children. It was February 1991 and I sat on the plane crying.

I called his wife and she told me she had tried to get hold of me and failed. I was devastated, the boy I loved most was shot down in his Cobra Gunship near the Kuwait border on the day Desert Shield became Desert Storm. My husband and I spent quite a bit of time in Washington DC and each time we were there I'd walk from the Marriott hotel downtown to Arlington National Cemetery, carrying flowers. I usually started crying at the florist and continued to Arlington. During one of those trips checking in two men approached me and asked where I got the flowers, "downtown" I said and when they asked for a couple I gave them three. It was a long way to the grave. The men passed me and offered me a ride and I told them I HAD to walk.
Another time when I was in DC I took three women along, we were at the same conference with our husbands, I poured a beer out and tried not to cry.

Once I took a Christmas tree and left it there. Time went by again and I haven't been back there again, there simply were no more conferences my husband had to attend. To this day when I think of Jack I start to cry, his children are grown, and I hope his wife re-married, we lost touch.

Recently I opened the trunk looking for something and found the quilt. The mother of a friend offered to take it with her to Nebraska and have a woman finish it. She wasn't sure if there was a machine big enough or if some part would have to be cut away. It was suggested that we make it into two twin quilts, but somehow I can't see that.

I tried to contact Jacks son via Facebook so I could offer it to him, I never got a reply. When the quilt comes back I'll simply put it back in the trunk along with my memories of Jack.

The last day, the last minutes and seconds before we greet 2014

A few years ago my daughters Christine (photo left) and Audrey (photo right) and I visited the Chicago Zoo at Christmas; I don't know when I've had a better, more fun time. This photo will forever be my favorite. I am, like all of you, looking forward to the New Year, but before I turn that new page, I want to tell my daughters, that they are my best friends, the best of me, and the most caring human beings on the planet. I know that whatever life throws our way, that they will be there for each other, with support, love and caring and most of all their humor will uplift me, and I want to thank them as well as my youngest daughter Nikki. I am so proud of all of you and I love you more than you will ever imagine.

Before Christmas 2011, as remembered in Sept. 2013

Christmas 2011

 

Christmas is around the corner and living in the desert it’s hard to get in the mood. There are no, no real cold days although we consider 70 cold. I’ve not been in the Christmas mood until I started baking cookies yesterday. I continued today, wanted a friend to have some like I make every year.

 

I thought back to what Christmas used to be like when the girls where small, back when I lived close to my sister and I remembered many of them going back to my Childhood. We had a real tree with candles on it. Being next to the youngest we had to go to our parent’s bedroom on the 24^th when the tree was put up. Our presents were cookies Mama had spend weeks baking, perhaps an orange or some chocolate, that was when we were back in the city.

 

I remember telling Audrey to take her sisters for a walk on the 24^th, that’s when we open presents. When they came back Santa had been there. The youngest asked me year after year “where were you when he came”? I was in the bathroom I would answer year after year.

 

I remember going to Church Christmas Eve with Audrey, Jason and Alexander, we did not know that we were late and that our paper had the wrong time. We arrived in time for Communion, they passed a platter with Wavers and Jason said “oh goodie, Matzo crackers”, who was I to correct that. Later “wow that’s a little glass of juice”…After Communion the Pastor blessed the offerings ending with “Jesus Christ, Amen!” When four year old Alexander piped up and said “Mommie, the man said a bad word”. We didn’t exactly flee, but we left as fast as we could.

 

Christmas in Evergreen the year Pedro our 29 year old friend from Venezuela decided to come spend a month with us. He was overjoyed being knee deep in snow and couldn’t stop making snow angels. We had a great time celebrating the Season.

 

Norris, Tennessee with Christine, Frankie and Joey, we’d moved from Colorado and I couldn’t find the ornaments. I sprayed leaves of Holly and any other leave I could find, pine cones silver, gold and copper. It was the best tree ever.

 

I remember when Nikki, Eric, Ella and Riley visited us here in Lake Havasu City. The twins are now fifteen they were six at the time. After opening their presents they were not happy and my daughter wondered why. I pointed out that all they got were educational toys and not much in the way of fun stuff. We had a great time with them.

 

Most of our Christmases were spend with Audrey, Jason and Alexander. We always had the Menorah up as well remembering what no one should forget. They often made the trip by train and I will be grateful until my dying day for the wonderful time we all had. It was a privilege for me to be with the boys from the time they were small and this tie is still firmly in place and always will be.

I remember the year Nate gave me a hand made Dulcimer when we lived in Tennessee, he said lessons came with it but an hour and a half away. I was too scared of failure, tried it when I was alone and in the end I gave it my son-in-law Eric who I hope plays it now and then and that it didn't end up in a garage sale, if he had to or wanted to sell that would be ok, it would still be painful, but once you give a present away the choice of what that person will with it are no longer up to the giver.

There were other great presents from Nate and as life winds down there are still great times ahead and today, remember all this and more I am thankful for all of life’s blessings.

IDAHO PHOTOS, What a beautiful State

The River of No Return

 

 

The River of No Return

For Phyllis and Ron

 

I sit outside and listen

To the song of the river of no return,

Watch the blue heron fish

From the sand bar

And when evening slowly descends

Watch deer make their cautious journey

For their nightly drink.

 

I let my thoughts wander

Back to the time of

The Lewis and Clark expedition

And think with sorrow

That Sacajawea lies

Somewhere

In an unmarked grave

Like so many who journeyed west.

Here in this place

It feels like

I have God’s arms around me.

 

Written in Salmon, Idaho, August 22,2913

By Karin Feuerstein

Frog Castrations

Just got that in an email from the Center for Biological studies, I didn't need to read any further but thought, "What kind of bullshit is that?" Are we wasting money on frog castrating? Aren't there enough people in the Southern States that spear and eat the things? Let's blow our money where it's needed and counts, pay teachers better salaries, feed the children in our own country and stop counting mosquitoes and castrating frogs. Am I getting so old that I ponder crap like that shouldn't I be old enough to not give a shit what goes on in the world? I mean I'll be hitting 73 in a few days, my grandmother never saw TV and the village we were evacuated to during the war because our house was bombed had a town crier, a town crier who loudly yapped about Hitler's triumphs, why didn't the world step in sooner and kill the sonofabith and save six million people, not just Jews but also mentally challenged people, men or women who stood on the street corners and bitched about Hitler and what he was doing to our country. We, who once were the richest and most powerful country in the world, have regions of abject poverty like the Appalachians and so many more. Do you really think they give a shit about frog castrations? Hell they eat them.