One day it's there; the next, it's gone!

All summer we live with corn surrounding our 2 acres.  It grows, green and dark, and surrounds us in a green-walled outdoor room, providing both privacy and isolation.  In the fall, as the leaves yellow and dry, we anticipate the cutting.  We know that our now golden-walled room is soon to be opened up to reveal where we really are, and what has, all along, been around us.  Just before the corn was cut, Anna Gale came over to visit, on her brief trip back from Portland, OR, to visit her family.  We decorated some little hands  (like the ones on the banner of the blogsite), and talked for a while.  The wind rustled the corn leaves, and the sun lit them like golden shafts, and Anna said it was like a magic space.  But like all magic places, it soon disappeared. And now, I go back to work decorating the final glazed forms, and I must start planning what comes next:  tests of a new clay (more in the next blog) and re-organization of the studio space as Peter takes the shelving that I was borrowing and stores his belongings while he makes the move to Chicago.  I have work to prepare for an ongoing sale in Ann Arbor and the Clay Gallery.