I'm at my sister's in LA and sneaking a quick entry while she's at school preparing her classroom for the kids' arrival tomorrow.

I got most of one of her Christmas presents to me. I've recently gotten into ceramics, and I really enjoy it, particularly the pottery wheel. My sister found a ceramist she really likes here, Moye Thompson. She went to an open studio at her house, talked with her, and commissioned some work for me for xmas, a small and unusual tea set. Part of the gift is that when I came down with her to LA, I could go with her to Moye's house and talk with her, see her work and her studio. She thought I'd like to see what it was like to be in the business of selling my artwork.

Would I ever! This was an awesome present. Moye and I talked shop, and she showed us around her Gorgeous house in Santa Monica (her husband is an architect, and he designed it). Her work was all over the place, and it was very well made; I like the forms she uses. I learned some interesting techniques, and she has a really beautiful palette of matte glazes. She herself is very welcoming and is great to talk to.

When she asked me how many cups I wanted for my set (she'd already made the decanter--teapot isn't quite the right word for it), I said three. She looked at my sister and said, "Huh, she chooses the odd number. She has an interesting life." My sister puts her hand on my shoulder and says, "Yes, yes she does."

Again, my sister thinks I'm this incredibly odd person. I like to think that I'm different in many ways, but to say that I lead an interesting life? Not yet--maybe in my head. For now, I'm a college-age college student looking for a part-time job. I do things differently, but I don't do different things, you know? Right now I see the seeds of an interesting life. To me, that's definitely interesting, but on paper there's nothing there.

But it's nice to know people see it.

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Here are some unpolished musings I wrote while here:

Once, while traveling, I realized how it was that the land of America defined its people. We are immigrants, refugees from unfavorable circumstances to uncertain prospects; and upon arrival, we found a land that was strange but welcoming, and more than enough. That aspect of broadness and arrival evinces itself in our manner. The history of this land is that of an excess that we take for granted, unexpected and seemingly unearned. As a culture, we enjoy and expect bounty. We put lots of tomatoes in our salad.

Also, there is the legacy of discovery. Unlike cultures with rooted pasts, we were not �always here�. The land as we came upon it was wild and new, and as a people we can remember the first time we saw something. Activities like camping and backpacking are most popular in young immigrant nations: the US, Australia, Canada. We have records of people tramping through this wilderness; for us it was not that long ago. While we may lack a sense of belonging, we have not lost a sense of wonder.

Our interaction with the land is the process of making a connection. We don�t experience this feeling of having always known things. We are uncertain of our familiarity with each other, and in this country, strangers are strange. As we forge a connection with the land, we will unconsciously create a connection with each other. It is not something we lack so much as something we are creating. In my opinion, we are lucky to find ourselves in the middle of this at a time when we are capable of self-observation; we can place our activities in the context of history. We can see what kind of game we are playing, and so enjoy it, and see our position for the value that it has.

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I don't have time to write about my amazing LA-redeeming find. Later.

3:30 p.m. 2004-01-05�