Saturday, March 5, 2011

The Blog Brain has been mysteriously silent of late. No accounting for it.

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We're revved back up to ramming speed at the Ferdinand Street Glass Factory. M. returned from her wholesale show with an armload of orders; her best show yet. Yesterday we received back from Philadelphia the three pallets that we shipped out a month ago, and as I was unpacking I contemplated just how many times these pieces of glass go up-the-stairs/down-the-stairs. I think that I don't really want to know. It comes in, it goes out, it comes back, it goes out again, etc. Lots of tinkering & fussing occurs in the interim. I often feel like a dentist with a drill and my tiny knife-tip: scrape scrape scrape. When M. gets the photos back of the new work, I'll post some here. The newest line is called "The Dream Line" and it's indeed dreamy. I'm all in a swoon over it.

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Part of the recent silence reflects my desire to write, in this format, something that matters. There's so much crap out there in the way of navel-gazing and self-aggrandizing. (The letter "Z" twice in one sentence! I love Z.) It wears me out.

5 comments:

  1. everything you write here matters. if it rises to the surface and finds its way to the keys through your fingers, then it matters. and i will read.

    it is hard to not self censor. but i try to remind myself that my blog space is mine alone, to use as i please, and i am glad my friends drop in and forgive how they find me on any given day,

    true friends do that. they take you as they find you, brightness, pathos, rumination, whimsey, rambling, unreason, all.

    i'm happy to be here.

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  2. In your last paragraph you omitted 'self-deprecating'; although probably rarer than the other two!

    I look forward to pix of Dream Line.

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  3. Well, I'm a big fan of the ordinary--if there is such a thing. I dunno, it seems to me the ordinary is pretty much the only thing that does matter (?).

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  4. Yup, there's a lot to be said for the ordinary - and, too, a lot to be said for lifting life above the 'grubby level'.

    zzzZZzzZZZzzZZZZZz (and I don't mean I'm about to go to sleep, T. I like Z too.). L, C

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