The garage door is propped open a little bit to help counter any fumes coming from the kiln that is on and slowly getting hotter and hotter. Today I’m firing some sample glazes with the hope of using them on some of my newly made and designed (or to-be designed) pottery pieces.

Yesterday, I framed and hung up pictures of our dog, and once finished, I wandered around the house to admire my handy-work, and to admire him in all of his expressions.

I’m sitting at my office desk, slowly packing for a flight I have later this evening, having just read a few of the comments a letter I wrote to Kona, our beloved dog that died in August.

What I came up with is: what I want right now is community. A space to learn and be inspired, and with room for us to change our minds and try new things and let ideas go. What I want to feel is connected. To move through our own seasons in the way that we need to in order to create and be in community.

Inspiration as a resource—as it relates to those that make and share through their creative medium, and in turn, motivating you to write or read or draw or paint or sing or dance or take an improv class.

With rapid, micro-changing moods, visits with family, keeping up with the current state of the world, and tending to work tasks, my mind has been elsewhere, and whenever I’m somewhere else, I find it difficult to find my way back—to land anywhere close to where I was before.

While community used to be something I nurtured in public, it’s now something I tend to in the shadows of my day-to-day (between appointments, after work, before I sit down with my coffee, while fussing over my rosebushes, or over long weekends).

This morning, I deadheaded a few of the potted plants, leaving behind me little piles of dried flowers as I moved from pot to pot. And just above, there’s a helicopter making its way to the hospital half-a-mile or so west of where we live.

A few things have come to mind since I shared my latest experiments in motion, and I’d like to share them now before they slip my mind (which they will, because they always do).

Going off of the idea that an experiment is something we’re actively choosing to learn more about, try on, better understand, play, interact, imagine, or express ourselves with…

Rather than thinking of resources as something fixed and unchangeable, we’ll focus on the resources that work for (and with) us right now. The resources that might change shape or drop off for awhile.

I was on a walk earlier this evening with my husband. It’s been a cool day for a day in mid-June. The wind piercing through our sweatshirts while we pause in patches of sun that warm our faces.