Saturday, October 29, 2011

Gratitude in the Grove, Day Three

Holy Moly, it's snowing outside. My dad used to tell me that I was born the opening day of fox trapping season and the first snowfall of the year. My birthday isn't for a few more days, but it is often accompanied by snow. Snow causes a little sadness for us here because it means that we will have five more months of it. How is it possible for winter to last so long?

Perhaps I live in Narnia.

I am thankful that I am able to sculpt. Not only do I have the skill and training, but that I am actually able to make space in my life and in my very small house to do it.

5 comments:

The Aesthetic Elevator said...

So do you fire that clay piece when it's done? Or is it just to make a mold with???

Sarah said...

I use a mold. The clay is made from dehydrating earth clay and adding oils, waxes, and other such things to create an always-plastic substance. It never dries out, never hardens and you don't have to wet it. When it gets hot, it melts. I hate making molds, but this this the clay I learned sculpture on. It's especially good for large-scale pieces because it doesn't dry or crack.

Emily said...

I was a bit bummed to see the snow as well--it signifies the near-end of my photography season. Glad we can be grateful together at least:).

Rosann said...

I thought the snow was actually somewhat beautiful and even magical looking this morning. There's something I love about the first few snowfalls. Sitting inside all warm and cozy with a cup of hot tea, looking out the window. Such a peaceful feeling. But then I have to go out in it...and it's not quite as lovely.

It will be a long five months. I'm happy to see you're blogging and focusing on being grateful, both of which will help keep your spirits up when the weather threatens to bring you down. Always praying for you my sweet friend! :-)

Sarah said...

I used to feel that way about the first snowfall as welll it has always signaled my birthday!
In fact, I used to LOVE winter! I love few things more than drinking tea and reading books all snuggled up on the couch. I even learned to drive in snowy, Michigan winters. Not a problem. Sadly, moving here has expanded my greyness-induced depression (they have a more clinical word for it.) The greyness covers us here, but I am determined to find the Light in the darkness. (Thank you to Lanie, especially!)