Late Night in the Studio

There is something so enchanting about the studio at night. Me, the BBC, and the crickets. It's cool (relatively speaking) and so very quiet. I can hear myself think. I walk across the grass, wet from the day's rain, and check out the moon. Lately it's been very bright - although John says he wasn't able to see the Pleides meteor shower the other night. Each night when I walk out, it's a little bit further to the left. It makes me think of creating a huge black tree out of glass against the night sky with a nice shiny mica-enhanced moon. But it wouldn't be the same.

My husband is sleeping inside. The cats, too - except for Pino, who will be waiting anxiously on the porch for me to come back in. The studio is just me, the popping of the relays on the kiln (on/off...on/off...on/off) it's the heartbeat I listen for. It soothes me. (Although I love my kiln with solid-state relays the best, I do miss the heartbeat when it's the only one running!) At night, I can readily hear the cascade of the vitrigraph stringer as it begins to hit the floor. I have been doing some incredible things with vitrigraph stringer lately! Can't wait for the Niceville show - opens September 11. Come see!