There I was, standing in the kitchen, drying a glass and getting a productive start on my day by doing some preliminary staring into space, when a sudden boom jolted me into consciousness. The boom was followed by another hard jolt ~ the house rocked, the floor rolled, walls and lamps swayed, and anything breakable rattled. Californians tend to get pretty jaded about the occasional hiccups of the earth's surface, taking bets on the number seismologists would later declare, but I'd be lying if I didn't say it was the first time in a long time I experienced a little thrill of fear during an earthquake. I actually found myself standing under a doorway, although for the life of me I couldn't remember why. Turns out it was a 5.4 magnitude, which is a moderate size tumbler, the epicenter of which was located not far from here, in Chino Hills.
Fortunately, I've heard of no injuries or serious damage. Here at the house, although tchotchkes leapt off shelves and medicine cabinets popped open of their own volition, there've been no casualties. Except for one, of great sentimental value.
My groundbreaking but much under appreciated sculpture, Pink Floyd Boy, suffered a near-fatal injury. I made him in college in a ceramics class, where I briefly fantasized about a career as a young (well, relatively) Beatrice Wood, and he holds a special place in my heart. With patience and a little gorilla glue, I believe he can be saved. Another bullet dodged. It's gonna be a great day.
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4 comments:
I always have misspelled tcho whatever by writing it chotchkis.
Thanks for setting me straight.
I once drove up to wherever Beatrice Wood was living years ago. Was I in New Mexico or in CA? Somewhere with a desert feel. She had a pottery studio and she was there standing out in front of her nearby house. She was wearing a kind of mumu and a turban wrapped casually around her head. I feel mydescription conjurs up Joan Collins but she was ARTY looking, as well as ancient. I think she was 88 or so. The kicker was her boyfriend. I think he was 22. I'd want to be her too.
Just heard about the earthquake and CNN's claiming it's a 5.8. Glad you're OK.
Thanks for stopping by my blog, hope you come again. I have three I write on, and my goal now is to post something every day on one of them.
In my freshman ceramics class, my instructor critiqued my work thusly: You have reached new depths of mediocrity. I suggest a different major.
Harsh?
Glad you are fine.
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NOOOOOOOOO! Say it isn't so. Here's a thought: Leave it as is and sell it to the Getty Villa as an original artifact from Pompeii or Crete or some such place. They'll be chomping at the bits to get something that isn't stolen.
P.S. Not saying you or it is old enough to come from Pompeii, just saying all broken there, it looks like it does.
Whew! Will that get me a 'tini on Saturday? :-)
ahhh....such sadness welling up in me.
he even loooks like he's saying...
"help meeee" or more likely something more profound...and funny. Since YOU made him.
I do feel bad. glue his head on, sit him up straight. he will have tales to tell of his battle scars.
glad your okay....glad your not broken. :)
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