Through the Mind

Four weeks into my own challenge, and I have already missed a week of writing. How much shame could I bring to my family? Pity, I’ll do better from now on.

When you begin to learn to throw pots on a ceramics wheel the very first skill that you have to build is called centering. If the name did not give it away already, this is where you center the ball of clay that you want to turn into a gorgeous pot, or cup, or bowl, or shot glass if you are Kim Plymale. If any of you have ever thrown on a wheel before you know that this is one of the most difficult things that one will have to learn, so it is a cruel joke that it is the very first thing to cross off the list. If your clay is not centered, neither will your creation be.

Hmm, there’s some beauty to that concept if you ask me. Hold on to that thought.

Ceramics is all about slow, controlled movements, so it was not a surprise to me on my first attempt that I completely sucked at it. Since middle school I have always rushed things. From my meals to my walking speed, I move fast. It has never gotten in the way of my art up until this class. But boy did it ever hinder me now. I could not even get my clay to center before I would rip it off of the wheel, let alone make a cylinder. After about a week, I was not only frustrated but completely embarrassed that I had not mastered the art of throwing yet.

Then I thought to myself “Hm, Ashley. You can not get your clay to work and you can not get you life in order. Perhaps one solution might inform the other”. Basically I started mentally thinking “Center the clay, center your life.” And like that, I had my new mantra. It was not instant, but with my ipod playing and my schedule cleared for the night I taught myself how to center clay. Pull up on the clay “Center the clay”, push down to center, “Center your life”.

A nice bonus to the halfway decent cylinders that I have been cranking out is the relaxing thinking that I have been able to pull off while throwing. My thoughts are usually jammed with deadlines, to do lists and ideas, but while on the wheel I manage to have clearing moments. Is it the start to centering my life? Guess we’ll have to see.

Almost makes me want to take up Ceramics. But just almost.

Currently listening to: Grace Potter and the Nocturnals “Big White Gate”

I am a sentimental person. Something as simple as a receipt has the power to take me back years to a certain memory, and I personally like that ability in inanimate objects. The specific momenta I feel like talking about today is something that I have carried with me for the last 2 and a half years of adventuring. My eyebrow ring.

If you do not have any tattoos or piercings, or if you have never had that gut feeling wrenching you to do something drastic to change the monotony of your life, then you probably will not understand why I decided to get my eyebrow pierced. What it comes down to is that I was entering my first semester as an art major and I was always trying my best to be more “artsy” or just generally more badass. I had my hair cut extremely short at the time, listened to bands like Rise Against loudly with my windows down, and wore t shirts with rock bands names scribbled across them. I wanted a piercing, but didn’t have the nerve or idea to get one. But all it took was for the guy I liked to mention that eyebrow rings were kinda awesome for that idea to be put into my head.

My inner feminist hates that it was a boy, (and this particular boy at that), who lead me to make the first really defining “big girl” decision of my life. But I needed a change, and if it happened to help me snag the guy I wanted then hey, that’s a win-win! Unfortunately, it did not have the effect that I was hoping for with the boy, who would end up crushing me about a month after the piercing. For a long time, when I looked in the mirror all I saw was him in that half inch of metal.

But soon, I stopped letting myself think of it as his idea, and started letting it become a part of me. I was no longer defined as “the tall girl”, “the quiet one” or “Emily’s best friend”. I was Ashley, “The Girl with the Eyebrow Ring” and I have to say I loved it. I thought it helped validate me as an artist, that I didn’t conform to traditional social standards. It was taboo. And so was the 5’10 body it was sitting it.

Here recently, as I was browsing grad schools and doing more serious artistic projects I realized that maybe I was ok without the brow ring. It had served as my crutch for so long, saying for me that I was not just another Plain Jane to be looked over. Did I need it? I am more outgoing so I talked to people more. Therefore, most people knew my name without having to go identify me by my piercing. I am more confident in my art work, and with the amount of time I spend in the studio I definitely did not need it to validate or reassure myself that I was an artist. I needed to put in a plastic plug for work anyways….was it worth the trouble? Did I need to be helped by a piece of metal?

My answer came to me this past Monday when I woke up to find the back of the eyebrow plug was gone, lost in the night by my insane sleeping habits. So I pulled out the plug, and never replaced it. Part of me was sad that it was not there to say the things that I couldn’t anymore. Part of me was relieved that the last trace of the boy was now gone. But most of me was ok with it, and I have yet to miss it. The scar will always be a landmark on my face reminding me of the 2.5 years that I had an eyebrow ring, the time of my life when I was a badass.

In an attempt to get my creative side back from the dark corner where it has been hiding, for the next however long I can keep it up I will be writing weekly on my Tumblr page. I will NOT be setting a numeral goal for my post because if my school and work loads pick up, I do not want to feel like a failure for choosing to spend my time on them instead of the internet. I have no idea if these will be entertaining in the least bit, but let’s give it a shot, eh?

Andddddddd start.

I have never once in my life had an inspirational moment come to me in a dream. Not once. Many artist claim that when they sleep, their minds become more relaxed and therefore open to creative flow. Apparently, mine does the opposite. My dreams are messed up, and there is absolutely nothing artistic about them. Topics include, but are not limited to Vikings on a Caribbean island trying to kill me, dinosaurs, my head being stuck inside a television set and hearing every one’s voice sound like Lucy from I Love Lucy, and me eating dinner at my apartment. Not exactly awe inspiring.

And yet, the other night it happened.

In an unprecedented move, my brain decided to be brilliant and creative all while I lay sleeping. When I woke up, I simply had a great idea for my BFA show in the fall. Sidenote: (To those of you who may not know, at EKU when you are a BFA major in your final semester you get to put together a show for the Giles Gallery on campus. It’s kinda a big deal to most). I have been stressing for months now on what I could do that would not just be like any other photographer’s show that may have come before me, but something that would not completely break my tiny, artist budget. Just like that, I now have a goal.

I bet you guys are just dying to hear what it is, right? Sorry loves, you will have to wait about 45 weeks to know what’s a-cookin’ in this brain. However, I promise you, it is something very……Ashley.

Current Tune: Stornoway- “I Saw You Blink”

It’s been too long since I’ve been on my Tumblr account. Blame it on a drain of my creative juices thanks to my art classes. This past semester I have been stretched so thin that I literally have not had the extra energy or time to take photographs for fun. Hopefully, this will change in the New Year. Thanks to my wonderful parents, I now have a new lens and therefore, a new motivation for my art. Here’s to inspiration and Winter Break!