Yesterday I hand painted my name onto a piece of wood I found in our home studio. Tonight I’ll adhere paper cutouts of pots and Jack will help me add small hooks at the top so I can hang it from a table on Governor’s Island this coming weekend. My first open air market selling pottery I made with my own hands.
I like to imagine my older self one day looking at this earnest handmade wooden sign with a tenderness for where I’m at in this moment. This imagined older Grace is proud of how far she’s come and knows this sweet, hand painted sign was a small step in getting her to where she was heading. But right now, in this very real present time, it feels like I’m moving in slow motion. I’m in a constant mind loop wondering when I’ll get there, because this surely can’t be my destination. It feels easier to wallow about this meandering path I’m on, but it’s only fair I recognize and honor that my discouraged present self was once an imagined future self too.
Eight years ago, I moved across the country to New York City. It was never a dream of mine, it just sort of happened and I ran with it. I had no idea what I was doing (present me still hasn’t quite figured that out yet either) but I was wholehearted and open and ready for whatever this big city held for me. My first weekend adventure happened to be the same place I’ll be this weekend - Governor’s Island. I think back tenderly on that 23-year-old version of myself, excitedly hopping on a downtown 2 train, finding the ferry at the tip of Manhattan and feeling an overwhelming awe at the city views from the island. My new home. Never would that young version of myself have dreamed I’d still be here so many years later, selling my pottery right where I stood then.
So while this present day version of myself is exhausted from a global pandemic and a slow-moving career journey and fear of another subway shooting and dismay at our current political climate and and and - the younger me would be amazed at all I’ve accomplished and how far I’ve come. Younger me would think this weekend is pure magic - so this weekend is for her.
May her enchantment and hope live in me always. When it’s lost, may I find it again with ease. May you also feel the magic of your past self, your future self or any version of yourself you wish to dream.
If you are in NYC you can find details for this weekend's market here!!! (I got the dates wrong last week sorry for confusion :)) I’ll be there Saturday and Sunday and I’d love to see you!!
Yesterday I finished this audiobook while I was throwing in the studio and it filled me with a tender love for humanity (as Elizabeth Strout has a tendency to do).
This weekend’s market is my only really big update and there’s not much other news (aside from my website stocked with clay goodies that make perfect gifts!!) so here is a photo from the studio the other day. I’ve been hanging at the wheel a lot and it’s messy and feels really good and natural to wherever I’m very slowly heading next!
thank you, thank you, thank you for being here.