Just got back from NCECA (the national conference on the education of the ceramic arts) in Pittsburgh, PA (my hometown!) and boy am I jazzed up. I think I’ll have to write a few posts to get all the information and photos up, and first I want to start by talking about The Studio Potter magazine. I’ve been a subscriber off and on for some years now, but my commitment to this periodical really became solidified when potter Mary Barringer became editor. Mary has given The Studio Potter a total infusion of fresh energy, ideas, and incredible new thematic content. Published twice a year, each issue is more like a book than a magazine, with glossy, full-page color photos, and informative articles and dialogues with today’s leading ceramic artists, as well as students and educators. The best part is - there are absolutely no advertisements!! Just cover to cover content, breath-taking images, and a polished, yet grass-roots inspired feel - written by potters for potters. In every issue is a call for submissions for the next issue, encouraging experienced and new writers alike. It’s the perfect opportunity for all of you clay lovers to contribute your thoughts and energy to an incredible periodical - a chance to publish your first article, have your images seen, or to try to change the world - who knows! If nothing else, you had damn well better subscribe - because without us, this glorious publication will cease to exist. Visit: www.studiopotter.org p.s. while at NCECA I was “tattooed” by Mary Barringer and Alleghany Meadows…check out the GUN SHOW! 
From dust to dust…I know that death is a part of life, but why do we have to accept premature deaths as a normal part of daily life? I ask this because yesterday I lost another close friend to unfair circumstances. Tommy Hackenson, my childhood pal, died after a six or seven year struggle with Multiple Sclerosis (MS). I had lost track of Tommy after highschool. His parents lived next-door to my grandmother, and growing up I spent a week or so each summer at “Grammy’s house” - the highlight being spending time with Tommy. I admit that I had a huge crush on him (my very first crush!) and so I spent an awful lot of time hanging out on the back porch, waiting to see him come whistling along with his baseball mitt in hand. We swam in his pool, played freeze-tag, and stayed out late watching for the family of skunks that took shelter in my Grammy’s garage. My favorite Tommy-memory is the time when he spooked my sister, cousins and me by dragging a Styro-foam cup on a fishing line across our yard one night. We girls were on our nightly “skunk watch”, and had no idea Tommy was hiding in the bushes, rigging up his prank. When that glowing bit of white hopped along through the grass, the five of us went shrieking into the house in terror - only to hear the howls of Tommy’s laughter coming from a nearby rustling hedge. That story has become Assad/Salay family legend! Years later, I heard from my sister that she’d caught sight of a now unrecognizable Tommy — in a wheel-chair, head hung to one side, looking much older than his 30-something years. I froze in fear. Then I sprung to action, starting with a timid letter to get back in touch, then numerous care-packages and visits to see Tommy. He welcomed my sudden re-appearance into his life, and we began a slow but steady form of communication. You see, by the time I got to Tommy he could barely talk. He was bed-ridden with full-time care, and unable to move his own body, with the exception of his right hand (sort of) and his mouth (kind of). Understanding his speech took a lot of patience and effort, but I was hopeful. Every time I visited my family in Pennsylvania, I went to see Tommy - sitting by his bed and waiting for the words to form. His memory and brain were fine, but the problem with MS is that the lines of communication between the brain, nervous system and body are greatly hindered. I’m not an expert but you can find a lot of information on this disease at: http://www.mult-sclerosis.org/whatisms.html . I wish I could have had more time with Tommy before he died, but I am grateful for the gift he gave me. He taught me to cherish the days, the minutes we have on this earth, for life is fleeting. Tommy’s parents tell me that he never once complained throughout the entire time he fought this horrible illness. He quietly lost control of his body, and accepted his fate with dignity. I will never forget the person he was before he got sick: a firefighter, a husband, a brother and son, and my very first crush. Tommy, fly free! 
Just before Christmas one of my favorite people in the world died of injuries from a house fire in Oakland, CA. He was 31 years old, full of life, and at the time was visiting the Bay Area to reunite and record with his long-time bandmates, The Japonize Elephants. I first met Evan about 11 years ago in Bloomington, Indiana. I was in grad school then, and Evan was the best friend of my then-boyfriend…well, back then dating any one of the nine members of the Japonize Elephants was like dating the whole band: we had Jaeger Thursdays (accompanied by reel to reel, old-school movies rented from the library), Bob’s Bacon Barn barbecues, group swims in the “Hair Pool”, and rainy night streaks down South Grant street. Oh, and lets not forget tending to the Cess! Whatever the event, Evan was always there standing in the center of the group of us, entertaining. His effortless stand-up routine left us all writhing on the floor and trying not to pee our pants. No one could wear Spandex like he could, and when GoGoYaYa arrived on the scene - forget about it! - might as well bring your toilet paper along in your bag…I could tell stories about Evan all night. Our paths intertwined closely over the past decade, as most of the Elephants moved to the Bay Area around the same time I did, in 1999. Evan split his time between these cities, balancing love and music, and any time he was in SF I was sure to find him. He just had that special sumpin’ sumpin’ - a magical kind of charisma that drew everyone to him. His wacky humor left nothing untouched, nothing sacred. But most of all, he used himself as the object of all jokes - add costumes, make-up, lights, music, whiskey…and off he went! Evan will always live on in my heart and in my laughter, I know, but his absence will be obvious. He was just so warm and cuddly, ready to give a really great hug, and always able to cheer me up. You couldn’t not laugh around Evan - and he included everyone in his circle. Everyone that knew him loved him - and he holds a special place in my heart. His loss is a very, very hard one for me to bear - so I’d like to post a photo of him here, so that I can see his fun-loving self every time I check in. Evan, you will never be forgotten! Evan leaves behind a wife and two boys. Evan and his wife, Jill, had just bought a house - and now Jill is left to support herself and her two boys without the much-needed help of Evan’s income. Her biggest fear is losing their new home. Any contribution will be gratefully accepted - whether you knew Evan or just want to help. Thank you!! To donate to the Evan Lives Memorial Fund go here: http://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_xclick&business=gogoyayaliveson%40gmail%2ecom&item_name=Evan%20Farrell%20Memorial%20Fund
p.s. i didn’t even mention what a super-talented, multi-instrumentalist Evan was!!! Believe it!
Occasionally I dragged myself away from the huddle to view the bright, abstract paintings on the walls around us. The entire space reminded me of Pee Wee’s playhouse - oversized, neon-green plastic spheres clustered in one area, tubular squiggles of some unidentifiable material in another - it was a virtual playground for the eyes! I looked at these two paintings the longest… 
