Therapy/Pottery

 

 Four years and a bit ago (as of today), as a way to spend more time with my eldest, and to learn something new, I took up pottery. I had zero thoughts beyond, "This will be fun for a couple months." 

A year in, I kinda figured it was going to be a regular hobby, but now, four years later, I'm addicted. 

Add in a pandemic, which has been crazy-making, and pottery is therapy, and every bit as necessary for my mental health - and the mental health of about 60 others in my studio, it seems. 

We've been so fortunate the structure of the studio - closed to the public, members only, production facility - has meant we have not had to close, except for six weeks last year - and that was torture... 

These mugs sold the day after I made them. Reclaimed clay, terra sigillata with what I thought was pink mason stain, with carved hearts a la Banksey. 

I have an on-line store if you're interested - with the caveat it may disappear in six weeks, when it is no longer free (I got a three months free deal), if it isn't self-supporting. 
muddchuchersclayworks.ca

365 RED: Hobbies; Therapy

 You just never know when your hobby is going to turn into therapy, and when a pandemic is going to come along and you`re gonna need therapy.... I mean pottery.... four times a week. 

I took up pottery as a means of spending more time with my eldest daughter, and because I`d always wanted to learn how, but with zero intention of doing anything more than learning how. I had zero intention of still being at it four years later. 

I`m grateful for this hobby, the studio, the guy who runs it - about whom a book should be written. It`s been a rough, ugly year. I`m glad to have had this place to escape to. 

If anyone`s curious, my site is muddchuckersclayworks.ca. The name is homage to my sister, who, when she was six, declared if we made some transgression (she was specific, but I forget; I was also six), our names would be Mud, "M. U. D. D., MUD!

365 RED: Destructible History

View towards north east of what was left of the Corral in February 2021

When I was a little kid, my dad used to bring us to this place, the Stampede Corral on the Stampede grounds (apologies for the adverts) for the circus and various other events. I saw RUSH in this place, and was it there so often over the years, it became somewhere just that familiar. 

A couple years ago, I was asked to photograph the building for archives. I had two days of this building all to myself, right at the beginning of the pandemic. 

I am glad to have had the opportunity to shoot this building, and to have it to myself for those two days. It was extraordinary to get into every nook/cranny, including the tunnels! Who knew there were wish-bone-shaped tunnels underneath the building. 

We happened to be driving by the grounds in early January this year and stopped to watch as the big diggers chewed up the last of the building. Before I photographed it, I did question the wisdom of tearing down such history, but it would have been so costly to bring it up to useable condition, and yes, the city does have some grandiose plans - legit - for attracting an international convention audience. If the pandemic ever sets us free.... 
 

365 RED: Leftovers

Last year's leftovers. 

 I don't know... does this count for red? 

I shot this in late March 2021 at Horseshoe Canyon, which is located about 14 kms west of Drumheller Alberta. It's our own little - and I do mean little, relatively - grand canyon. It's a fun and interesting place to go for a hike - flat mostly, or if you go off track like we did, it can be challenging. Wear good shoes, and keep an eye on your GPS/compas on your camera, 'cause when you're down there, if you can't see the sun, you can get turned around. 

It's been a year. I'll say I haven't managed at all well, between missing my kids and being really angry and resentful over shutdowns, and conspiracies and anti-vaxers and anti-maskers - and I frigging HATE wearing a mask. 

So, I thought I'd revisit this 365 blog, because why the heck not. It won't be linear, but maybe someday it will have 365 images in it. One can hope. 

365 RED: Things you know will happen but refuse to believe

I did know my kids would grow up and have lives of their own. I knew it, but I didn't realize it would happen so bloody fast, nor did I comprehend how fast 30 years flies by, or 26, in the case of the owner of these kitties.

Six years ago, my youngest, then 21, met a fellow at a wedding in Texas. Given the distance, I figured not much would come of it. However, despite distances and deployments - he's a USAF captain - they married, twice, in fact (one totally-not-a-secret elopement to get the immigration stuff underway and the second a proper wedding).

Last December, she moved to Florida, otherwise known as at least seven hours, two airports and a 40 minute drive away from home. Shortly thereafter, she and her spouse got themselves some "kids" of their own, Logan and Wade, who, at the moment this image was made, had, for the first time, met a dog... yeah. I know. Terrifying. 

They were tiny then, and they're not much bigger now, but they have a big job; to keep my daughter company during yet another deployment; the first one when she's no longer home with her family but being a wife 5000 miles away.

365 RED: Abandoned London

Our city is a very changing place. As fortunes ebb and wane with the tide of the international oil markets, things are either excellent and vibrant, or struggling or abandoned.

Downtown, in what was the old bus barns, is a shopping centre cum social space. When it was imagined back in the late 80s, the developers envisioned a version of Vancouver's Granville Market. For whatever reason, those smart people didn't factor in the fact nobody lived downtown, or immense lack of downtown parking or the fact parking in this city is more expensive than nearly anywhere else in the world, including New York City.

So there was established a grand and gorgeous market in the centre of downtown, where, at the time, there were almost residents - save those in the VERY posh high-rise adjacent - populated by people who were wealthy enough to have a cook, or who ate  in high-end restaurants, rather than purchasing fresh produce and meat whilst within shoulder-rubbing distance of the proletariat....

Later, this ever-shifting building housed the  IMAX theatre, and a quite-excellent art gallery, and then a group of businesses and a cinema - but again, not enough people to keep those things running, given the vast majority of people who worked downtown couldn't wait to get out of there at the end of the day.

The place is currently on the demolition list. The few remaining businesses limp along, surviving only thanks to quite low rents for the area, as the landlord would rather have some income than empty spaces.

The poster there hangs outside a British shop - closed, of course - as a sad reminder of an idea that has entirely lost its way.

365 RED: Watercolour Roses

Our nearby, 160 acre dog park is a place of wonderful finds. With its many trees, some planted, some random, there are often bits and bobs left as honorariums or decorations.

These roses, dried out and frozen were left tied to the trunk of a denuded tree last winter - an actual winter with snow.

Recently, via a friend's post on Facebook, I discovered a photo editing program called SuperPhoto by which I altered this image. The roses look more bereft and lonely with this treatment. Maybe sad holding vigil for the last proper winter we'll see?

365 Red; Doesn't matter how sick you are, the slots await.

I am fascinated by the people who come to Vegas. For someone who, like me, is nosy and curious, and usually armed with some sort of camera, the place is a cornucopia of opportunity. So weird.

On this particular trip, I booked in to a hotel south of the strip. It's a big place but it's away from the chaos that is the tourist-laden centre-strip streets.

It has its own loyal, committed following though. These are not tourists. These are locals, who don't necessarily want to mix with the weekend warriors who frequent the strip hotels.

And these are the dedicated slot-players. In this woman's case, no matter she was feeling crap, was probably infectious, and really ought to have been in bed, she bundled up, fashion be damned, armed herself with tissues and voila; no problem, multi-tasking. I hope she won something for her trouble. I hope the cleaning staff disinfected that machine.

365 Red; Bridle racks and injuries. Graphic image...

Sometimes people ask that question, "If you knew then what you know now...". My answer is, "Something in medicine; probably emergency medicine." Wounds don't bug me - at least none I've encountered so far.

Generally, I'm not bothered by blood and cuts and stuff. I was the go-to mom on the beach when kids hurt themselves. My claim to medical fame was the time one of the boys slipped off a metal bridge and cut his leg quite badly. I cleaned the wound, bandaged him up, and sent him off to the local hospital, where the staff asked him why he was back... they thought he'd already been treated.

Recently I was visiting my sister in Vegas. She's a trainer there. We had coffee plans, which she had to cancel due to one of her horses having caught its nose on a hook - the kind one usually hangs bridles on. The horse pulled away, rather than lifting its head, resulting in a wicked but super cool laceration to its nostril.

The horse's owner - and my sis - were pretty grossed out, but the vet and I  had a great chat about the wound and how he was going to fix it right up. Proper old-time vet; very James Herriot.

WARNING: GRAPHIC IMAGE

365 Red; Gold Coast

The Paris Metro is a fascinating microcosm of everyone from everywhere. People who wouldn't necessarily mix socially all meet on the metro, for however brief a moment: business people rub shoulders, literally, with the homeless, who they will later ignore; travellers, immigrants, kings and queens; everyone rides le metro.

This lovely woman was head-to-toe in gorgeous traditional clothing. I don't know from where but probably Cameroon. She was entirely fabulous, regal, wonderful. And that ring. 24 carat gold. It was spectacular.

We were off at the next stop or I would have sat down and had one heck of a conversion with her, because she's someone with a damn fine story, I'm sure.