Dip, paint, repeat

No time to post, lately; I've been head down in the studio all week, glazing and decorating. A lot of special orders again, including multiple dozen mugs for a local bakery--more on that anon.

Meanwhile, I've been tasked with a very big (8 lbs wet weight) beaver bowl; custom portrait cat tall mugs; and a set of bunny mugs and plates, with a different bunny on each one.


I also got a call from a long-time patron asking to add more pieces to their dinner service, decorated in Oregon-native flowers and insects. In addition to the easy stuff--toddler bowls, dessert plate, pasta, French butter dish--she asked for a large oval platter. Beauty, isn't she?

Saturday Market, continued

Saturday Market sent an email describing recommended precautions and distancing plans, and asking if we still plan on selling at the June 13 opening, and, I don't know. They're pretty complicated; I'll have to review things with Denise and see if I can make this work. They want a reply yet this weekend, yes or no, whether we still plan on selling. Right now I'm stuck on "Maybe?"

Now for something completely different

My old friend and former musical partner Hans Mayer has been live-streaming concerts through his Facebook page, grown-up music shows Friday nights at 8 pm CDT, kid's shows (which is where I come in) Saturday mornings at 10:30 am CDT.

Hans and I met, oh, thirty-odd years ago in La Crosse, Wisconsin, when I was telling children's stories for a radio show his girlfriend, Carol, produced. She'd been trying to get him to write music for the show; he wrote two songs (including the title theme), then stalled out. In one of those moments that nobody realizes is gonna change lives, she asked, Why don't you and Frank get together?

The first time we met, I brought a poem I'd written for Earticklers, and a song I came up with while throwing pots, about the things we kids were scared of, growing up. In about a half hour, he'd put them to music. The second meeting, I brought a lyric from a topic he suggested, about how his brother used to gross out the other kids in school by eating bugs, along with a little western ditty about little boy playing cowboy on his tricycle. And Hans started talking about recording an album. Hans, I don't sing, I protested. Sure you do, he said, playing back our reference tracks.

My Brother Eats Bugs came out on cassette in 1985, just after I moved to Oregon for graduate school. We released a sequel, When I'm Feeling Silly two years later. (They've since been remastered to CD.) I never really performed that much, mostly album release concerts (and River Fest, a summer outdoor music festival) in La Crosse, though we did do two memorable shows in the EMU Forum Room in Eugene, sponsored by the Cultural Forum.

I do most of my singing in a church choir these days, but Hans is still a full-time musician, with many albums, both kids and adult. We continued to write songs together for many years, and most have showed up in his solo releases. Haven't written any new ones in a while, but he's promised me a list of topics to tackle, so I'm hoping I can still get that silly, given the current situation.

At the moment, Hans' career is badly hindered by the COVID-19 pandemic. The Facebook concerts are an attempt to find alternate venues. Though they are live-streamed, they're also archived as video for later viewing. There's no charge to listen, but if you're so moved, you can contribute to his virtual tip jar at PayPal, Sillybiz09@gmail.com.