The ceramics class I mentioned begins tonight. The instructor is a wheel-throwing instructor and studio technician at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts. My Thursday evenings will be occupied for the next seven weeks or so as I see if I can’t rekindle some of the feeling I had while I was kicking around in the studio at BC.
That’s not what I wanted to share.
What I wanted to share is that it took an act of will to make the call to BCAE and register for the course. It’s going to take another to walk across the parks and go to the class. What finally decided this for me was that I felt as afraid as I did do. It’s funny, really. I’m going to do something I loved which, on some level is just like playing with mud, and I’m as terrified as I felt at the end of my dream this morning. Why? Is it because I’m afraid that if I find something else I love, it will just be another vulnerability? Something else that can be taken away from me? It’s so easy to become trapped.