Elbereth Star Kindler.

Lately I've fallen in love with Tolkien again. This irresistible world he created in my head begs to be translated into the outside world. As with all things that go on in my head, most of the essentials are lost in translation. Actually, the only thing that doesn't get hopelessly garbled are the stories; they tend to turn out better on paper than in my head. Maybe this is why I'm think I'm an English major and not an art or music major.

In any case, here is Varda, Tolkien's lady Elbereth Starkindler.
This is my fifth attempt at translating this image that Tolkien put into my head onto paper. Twice I have finished this image and been rather disappointed. The only good thing about the first one was the hands. I worked really hard on just the sketch of the hands. The only good thing about the second attempt was that it was slightly better than the first one. It's nice to see that I've made some progress. I figured out that I wanted to use black paper on the the third attempt. I started to wear a hole through the crumby construction paper with my eraser, so I didn't finish it. I might have to give the fourth version another shot at some point. It's much bigger and I have some ideas of how I want to fix it. I was playing with some materials that I don't know anything about.
She's still not quite right (even ignoring the minor proportional problems and other little things). Her face is not really how it looks in my head, but I was glad it looked like a human face and not a monkey like some of the others did. I'll get there. I've learned a lot drawing this image over and over. I feel like I have a much firmer grasp on the shape of a face, since I've had to draw it with the light coming the wrong way. The black paper is really maddening and fun.
So, the hard part is sticking with it till it's done. There are eleven more Valar and dozens of other Tolkien images that want out of my head, not to mention faces from my own stories.

Mud Babies

To top of my piano is once again covered in ceramics. This batch looks a little smaller, as far as the number of pieces. But all the pieces are far bigger than the ones I made last summer. I made lots of shot glasses last summer. This isn't actually all of them. One or two have already been given as gifts. There are still a few in my locker at school and I think there are a few more still cooling in another kiln. Once again, I feel like I've just started to figure out what I want to do with clay. I've started to actually do things on purpose with the potter's wheel. That's a mile stone. The small brown bottle in the back was a triumph because I actually drew the shape and then tried to make it. It took me two attempts, but I managed it.

I figured out the secret forbidden glaze combination to get those flashes of red and blue. It's two very runny glazes poured on top of each other. My teacher hates it when people figure it out because it runs right off the pots and onto the kiln shelves and generally makes a mess. Thus, I put it on the inside of a bowl. I So Clever.





This is the other thing I did on purpose. Well, sort of... I wanted to figure out how to make a chip dish with a built in place for chip dip. I made a plate with a Really thick bottom, then I pushed the floor down into a lump in the middle and pulled it up into a little bowl. It's not really big enough, but I felt very clever indeed for managing it. It cracked in the bisque kiln. I think something about pushing the floor down weakened it.

So, next time I get to play with mud, I'll do some more hand building and sculptural pieces. I love the wheel and functional pottery, but I feel like I only have half of the picture this way. I started several sculpture projects, but I didn't finish any of them. The wheel is just so much faster. I hate deadlines. Maybe, when I'm on semesters instead of quarters, I will have time to think things through instead of improvising so much. All the options are a bit overwhelming. There are about a million things your can do with wet clay, just forming methods and shapes you can make. Then there are thousands of decoration, altering, joining and further forming you can do when the clay is "leather hard." Then there is the "bone dry" stage where you can do a whole other set of decoration methods. This starts to sound like an annoying math problem. 1000000 X 1000 X 24... and we haven't even gotten to the glazing part yet. Do you want to dip, spray, pour or paint the glaze on? What color? What texture? How thick? Do you want to use stains? And then there are all these variables in the firing itself. Wood fire? Gas? Raku? And if your pot is on the edge, near the fire, that blue glaze might turn pale yellow, never mind that it looks red when you put it on...
I think I'm getting to a point where I can do some things with the first stage pretty well. I'm also pretty good with the bone dry part. There are only a few options at that point. The rest is all a game of chance. I've just decided to accept whatever I get and try to be appreciative. There are one or two pieces that I can reasonably expect other people to like. The rest is only beautiful to me. So the "pretty" ones get given away to my adoring fans. Anyone want one?

Writeing lab reflections

It's so nice to see people's faces again.

People have always interested me but I kind of like to have them at an arms length; being an introvert in hiding and all. Here in the tutoring lab, I very rarely meet people who I should like to meet outside of the writing lab. I usually like to get them done and out very quickly. But sometimes I think I really like people.

A student came in near the beginning of my shift today and presented me with her paper, covered in English teacher hieroglyphics. She needed a little help decoding, but mostly just a sounding board, like so many student who come to me. She was about my age. She said she had studied overseas but I was not sure if that meant she was an ESL student, or if she had just traveled. She did not write or speak like an ESL student. She may have been an ethnic minority, or she may have just had a tan. Her hair was very carefully tousled and jelled; longer and messier down the middle. She had a lip piecing and wore black, edgy clothes. She could have been an art student except she didn't seem to be trying to get attention quite as much as my art classmates do. There was something a little more thoughtful and confident about her appearance and demeanor. It is terrible to be a confident person in a vulnerable position. Like many students, she was a little unsure if she really wanted me to to tutor her. There is a faint hope that I will taker her paper and let her escape. I finally got her to sit down (next to me rather than across the table, which is pretty extraordinary) by pulling out the chair and verbally asking her to take a seat. So much for first impressions.

Her assignment was to describe a place with a function. She chose her kitchen and explained, very humorously, why it failed miserably to live up to being the heart and center of her home. It was not brilliantly written, but I could sense thought and even enjoyment behind the writing. We moved very quickly through it, working out her teacher's comments and discussing concepts and writing strategies. She seemed very intelligent and genuinely interested in making the paper her own, rather than just getting me to feed her sentences. She didn't want me to "fix" it for her and that was refreshing. I really enjoyed reading and discussion her paper, despite it's just-out-of-high-school feel. I gathered that writing sort of intimidated her. I also sensed that she could really enjoy writing with practice and confidence. Her teacher kept writing "show us" on her very detailed descriptive paragraphs. This happens a lot with English teachers. They always want more detail just as we think we have described everything. What they really want is a different kind of detail, but of course they don't say that. He was wanted her to be more specific about what why it was dangerous to open her cupboard. She left her readers' imaginations with many wide open spaces in which to play. She observed that her imagination goes wild and needs no further guidance. I told her that she ought to lead a little further us into her mind so we don't get lost. "I don't really like letting people into my mind," she said with a small smile. Neither do I. She said she felt much better about the paper when we were done.

I don't really know what it was about this girl that made her worthy of a blog post. I liked her a lot. Both of us were uneasy, in a way, because we didn't know each other. I had the advantage, since she came to me for help, and I've had a lot of practice talking to strangers in this job. But there was something friendly about it too. She is one of those people that I'm sure I could be friends with, even if we have nothing in common beyond a small, hazardous kitchen. Funny how that happens.

"Why is this night different from any other night?"

Well, first of all, we have a special dinner. We used to have a pretty traditional passover meal, but those take so long and there is always a lot of other things to do, so we have an abbreviated version. There is that funny crackerish unleven bread, wine, some bitter herbs. Mom makes this apple and walnut salad with the wine. But we do indeed eat in and run, just like the Israelites. We don't want to be late for Holy Thursday mass.

In many ways, it's just like any other Catholic Mass. Two Old Testament readings and a psalm, one Gospel reading and a sermon. But it's different. The Gospel reading is the Last Supper. That night in the upper room, Jesus not only gave us the center of our spiritual life but also a directive for the corporal mission of the Church: He washed His disciples' feet. At mass in most parishes, after the homily, the priest, like Jesus, takes off his outer vestments, wraps a towel around his waist and goes out into the congregation to wash feet. Sometimes several other people join him. The catechumens who will receive the Sacraments of initiation often wash feet. This is just as awkward as it was for Peter centuries ago. But that's sort of the point. It's very humbling. And in this way, we are sent out to serve one another. The greatest in the kingdom of heaven will be the servant of all.

The mass continues as usual with the Eucharist, the other, and probably more important event that happened that night. We celebrate the Last Supper at every mass. It's THE center to Catholic life.
The Eucharist is the most perfect form of worship. The word itself means thanksgiving. We also call it communion. We are closest to Christ when we have received him in the Eucharist. He is literally inside us; body soul and divinity. I used to tell my girls club that Christ wanted to be physically and spiritually close to us; as close to us as was physically possible; close to us in the way He was close to Mary, the perfect disciple. He was inside Mary's body for nine months. What an incredible miracle to have God living inside your body. Christ wanted that same closeness with each of us. That is the miracle of the Eucharist. Jesus come to be inside us physically for a few minutes. We are all tabernacles for those moments.
Holy Thursday is the day to celebrate this sacrifice and miracle in a special way.

Twice as many hosts are consecrated, since none will be consecrated tomorrow (and Catholics simply can't function without the Eucharist). We know that with every passing minutes, Jesus draws closer to Calvary. While we are still on our knees giving thanks, the priest puts away the extra hosts and carries them in procession to a specially prepared side alter. This little alter is decked in greenery. It is the garden where Jesus prays. Back at the high alter, the alter clothes are being reverently folded up and put away. Everything is stripped bare. The side alter in green and the tiny candle burning beside it are the only relief. We stay and pray with Him, trying not to fall asleep. The church will stay open late into the night. One by one we stand and reluctantly leave. Tomorrow will be a long and hungry day.

Sea Monsters

I haven't done a book post in a while.
Scott O'Dell is a fairly famous author. Or at least, I think he is. Island of the Blue Dolphins won a Newbery medal and all. We got through a lot of those medal winning books. I think someone read Island to me when I was very little. It's not one I remember very well but I think it may have been important somehow. I was pretty obsessed with Native Americans for a while and it may have been O'Dells fault. There was also The Kings Fifth which was very good and I would recommend it to anyone who likes adventure and books about hunts for gold.

My favorite Scott O'Dell book, however, is The Black Pearl.
The appeal of this was the gripping danger and adventure, the quirky Catholic characters and

Sea Monsters.

Okay, the manta ray was probably the biggest appeal. The pearl rightfully belongs to the Devilfish and when the main character steals it, disaster strikes. Those terrible superstitious Catholics. They're so silly.
I was glued to the page.

You have to admit, manta rays are probably the coolest thing in the ocean. Knowing that some sea monsters really exist just makes the world a better place. I'm delightfully terrified of sea monsters. I freak myself out when I'm swimming. I would never be able to take a submarine ride, but I would hate myself for passing up the opportunity. But as long as the monsters are on the TV, and I am safely on the other side, I can't get enough of them.

The world is a better place if you believe in the existence of the Loch Ness Monster too. It doesn't have to be proved. As long as there is a possibility that Nessie could capsize your boat at any given moment, the world is a happy place. Or you can just say that Nessie is just some giant eels playing tricks on us and that's almost as good, I suppose, as long as they are extraordinarily giant eels: Seam Monsters.

Jellyfish are really the scariest things in the ocean. I used to think they were just pretty and colorful and whimsical. Then I was drawing them and I looked up a whole bunch of pictures online.
This one is not so scary. I can't post the scary ones or I'll have nightmares. :D
They can get really big. And then they eat really big things. And the looks so harmless and kind of dumb. They just float around looking all squishing and graceful. Then the zap you and you get all tangles in their nasty tentacles... And they EAT you. *shudder*
Who knew?

Jellyfish are sea monsters.

Not all Jellyfish are eight feet across with eighty foot tentacles. Some of them are pretty small and unimpressive. But they are still sea monsters. There are the ones that actually have brains and will chase after their prey. Those are pretty scary too.


Then there is this guy.
I was almost disappointed when they finally found a live one. It made them a little less scary. The more you know about a creature the less frightening it is( with the exception of the Manta Ray, of course, because he's my favorite).

A giant squid's eye balls are about the size of a human head.

Imagine looking it in the eye! I have to confess that I read Twenty-thousand Leagues Under the Sea just for the fight with the giant squid.



We used to have those Child Craft Encyclopedia things when I was little. In the back of one of them there was a story about the Kraken. There was a fantastically scary picture of this monstrous octopus-ish thing cracking a ship in half. Mine was much better than this one. All the sailors were screaming and jumping overboard or trying in vain to kill the thing. And the Kraken itself looked wicked enough to be enjoying itself.

It was GLORIOUS. I was terrified of it.

I always found it and marked that page somehow so I wouldn't open to it by accident. It was not the sort of picture I wanted to sneak up on me. When I was done looking at all the pleasant pictures, I would open to it very slowly so it wouldn't jump out at me. I would peek at it for about thirty seconds and then close the book very quickly before my imagination ran away and left me too petrified to move. It was the best part of the book. I have to admit, I'm glad the Kraken doesn't really exist. I love it in a story, but I prefer giant squid in real life. They don't seem as malicious.

I've rambled far off my intended subject, but I've one more sea monster to mention... at least...
The Narwhal is one of the more ridiculous looking creatures in the ocean.
It almost doesn't count as a monster because it's so funny looking. And I guess it doesn't actually use it's tusk for killing things. That's kind of lame. But it's still monster-ish.

After all, it's a whale with a seven foot tusk sticking out of it's face!

There are a whole bunch more monsters in the deepest parts of the sea. But it's bed time and I will give myself bad dreams if I post anymore pictures. (All of these came from Wikipedia, by the way)
The Black Pearl was about pearl divers, obviously. Even without the Devilfish, it was a pretty good book.

One of those stories that is written so well that images from it will stay with you forever.

Ceramics and hats.

Another old page from my notebook. I didn't have access to a scanner for a long time. But now I have one, so I'm posting some of my shameful doodles and spelling.
I don't know if I mentioned it here, (probably not) but I took a ceramics class last summer. I've always dreamed of working on a potters wheel. It was amazing. It's a lot harder than it looks but I had expected that. I got a lot better by the end of the quarter. I will have to take pictures of some of the things I didn't give away. Most of my cups were horrid, and only one of the bowls survived a few months in my house. I had a great time. So much so that I'm pretty sure ceramics will be my concentration if I do manage to major in art. I still have lots of other things to try, but I've definitely found a home in clay.
I took Jewelry this quarter. I was excited because I liked that lost wax class I took a few years back. The class focused on the metalworking side of jewelry. I had a good time, but I wouldn't want to do spend a whole lot of time doing that. Wax carving, sure. Banging on a piece of copper, no. So that's one down.
I'll be back in the ceramics studio on Tuesday for the first week of Spring quarter. I'm really happy. I've got all sorts of ideas I want to try. I'm hoping I'll manage to make some cups that hold more than six ounces. We shall see how much I've forgotten since August.
I didn't actually have the nerve to wear my hat much last summer. It's pretty silly looking. I always think of Tolkien's description of Sam's hat in The Lord of the Rings. I think he says it's a shapeless bag, which Sam calls a hat. I always imagine it to looks something like one of my failed attempts at a cup.

Dragons

Old notebook doodle.