Wednesday October 17. 2001
various things of inconsequence
I've mentioned firing kilns at school before. Well, I had my first high fire glaze firing this week, all on my own. I was firing one of the car kilns (its official name is the "Blue Light Special", but it mostly referred to as the "Old Car"), named such because all the shelves are on wheels and you basically roll them into the kiln itself and lock it shut. Okay, so imagine you're in charge of this beast, 10 feet high and 10 feet deep. You can stand inside of it, it's so big. You must fire it to a certain temperature (in this case, 1285 degrees centigrade), have it go up 150 degrees centigrade an hour, cut off the air at certain times, turn up the gas at certain times. all of this being done by manipulating a series of valves and dials and buttons that must be sychronized perfectly, otherwise all the work inside the kiln will go to shit and you are back to the proverbial square one.
So yeah, I was a little stressed. I couldn't tell you if it was because of the kiln or not, but Monday morning I woke up with the most unbelievably painful neck cramps I've ever had. They lasted through the day and into Tuesday, and now as I sit here I think that this is the first time my neck and back have felt normal since then.
To make a long story short, everything went according to plan, and tomorrow morning I crack open the thing and see how everything looks. Then I'll know if I've beaten the beast.
The Lemon Cokes:
On Monday, I stopped at Rite Aid to get my usual depression sugar fix (current weapons of choice: candy corn and Tastycake pies). And then I saw them, stopped in my tracks, right in the middle of the store, and said aloud, "Lemon Coke!"
Yes, I was enthused. I love lemon Cokes. I have always bought those little plastic bottle of lemon juice and squirted them into my sodas, now I wouldn't have to anymore! Oh happy day! I lugged a 12-pack home, excitedly opened one up, and...it was horrible. It tasted just wrong, and gross, and disgusting. It tasted like a lemon-flavored Alka-Seltzer tab had been dissolved into each can. And now I had 12 whole cans to sit and rot in my refridgerator.
And I finally did it. I bought my own domain. Never fear, Hejira is staying put right here on U-town.com, but I am now the proud owner of west-end.net. It has such a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Very elegant with sharp angles. All of my business interests are going there, because I've decided to change my company name from Whiteraven Arts to West End Arts. A small thing, really, but I made up the Whiteraven name when I was 17, and it sounds it. Kind of kitschy cute. Anyway. Time to shoot slides, scan them, design a site, design and print new business cards.
The Reality Check:
I was telling this one kid I work with about my desire to do a zine while in Rome. And he asked me what it would be about.
"You know, I'm going to write about what I'm doing, the photographs I'm taking, that sort of thing."
"So it's all about you?"
Pause. "Why would anyone want to read that?"
Every once in a while, it dawns on me how strange this online journal schtick is.
One Year Ago:
"But it's hard not to just want to melt onto the floor whenever he looks at me with those intense ice blue eyes and, even if he's just asked me about the weather, feel like he's probing the depths of my soul."
Two Years Ago:
"I alternate from having a stupid grin plastered on my face to nearly crying at some points."