Red, red wiiiiiiine.
painting pottery for friends and family for the holidays. Last year, everyone received photographs, which some appreciated more than others.
One upshot of crossing people off the friend list is far fewer cards and gifts to send out. I realized that I was sending cards to people who had rarely bothered to thank me, let alone do the same for me. Not that I send out cards to receive cards...but it's certainly an indication of some inequity in the friendship.
On Friday, a coworker and I went to Our Name is Mud to paint. I painted a tea pot for one and yet another mug. I have a friend who has a birthday this month, and the other is a holiday gift.
By the way, if you're on my holiday gift list and haven't done anything to get wiped from it this year, don't check out the Bisque Gallery. Dorothy, Veronica, Jen, Trace, Scott? I'm talking to you.
The more recent gifts are the ones that are not yet glazed and fired. The colors appear more faint than the glazed pieces and, obviously, they are not glossy.
My coworker painted a picture frame to commemorate her whirlwind courtship and engagement. She had to leave early to meet her fiance, but I kept painting. The tea pot took over 2 hours to paint and only afterward, did I realize I forgot to trace over some lines. Oh well. For the most part, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, especially since I don't draw very well. I should take a class. I always liked to paint, though.
As I said to someone the other night, my pottery may not be pretty, but it keeps me from killing people. And really, that's important. Hardly anyone's worth doing hard time.
: : :
Photos from Therapy Thursday:
Religious Sex on St. Mark's Place. I've always loved the name of that place, but I never think to go inside.
A doll I wish I could afford to buy for Fang. She's got "knife-gouging action." That's almost as cool as the dolls which came in their own, tiny, plastic coffins.
[Next entry: "Going to the Country"]
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