SHAPE NOTES

Yesterday’s frustration, today’s breakthrough.

Paula wrestled with her first bottle, learning how to "collar" the neck, and the delicate balance of clay and form. Struggle is part of the process, and in the moment, it feels awful. If we could celebrate the frustration as it happens, knowing we’re learning, maybe it wouldn’t sting so much. But that’s the paradox: the frustration has to feel frustrating for it to work. Your brain is rewiring itself, and the discomfort is part of the transformation, and once we survive it, the reward is all the more sweeter.

Learning something new comes with frustration, and those feelings are a step toward growth, earning us those little “aha” moments that show up later… on a walk, over coffee, or when you return to the wheel and everything clicks.

My mom died alone in an assisted living home. Before that, she had lived with my sister, my sister who was on the front lines, exhausted, and stretched so thin. One day, while my sister was at work, my mom fell in the driveway. An unknown neighbor called the ambulance. Returning home from work, mom no where to be found, my sister spent the afternoon and evening calling hospitals and morgues, trying to find her.

Eventually, she located her in a hospital, with a huge gash on her forehead. Even though we knew it would be the beginning of the end for her, we transitioned my mom from the hospital to the assisted living home.

My mom died a Dodgers fan. She never missed a game on TV. Growing up, we went to Dodger Stadium as a family, the names of third baseman Ron Cey (the Penguin) and…

A Tale of Two Restaurants

We know that trying something new can feel intimidating, that’s why at Shape Theory Ceramics, we focus on creating experiences that make people feel welcomed, and seen.

That philosophy reminds me of a trip to Canterbury, England, to pick up our daughter after her semester abroad. I wanted to treat her, and her sister, to a few fine and interesting restaurants. I’ve always loved the dining experience: not just the food, but the atmosphere, the performance, the way a meal can become an event.

Maybe that love traces back to my childhood in Palm Springs, California. Our family had a favorite sit-down Mexican restaurant, one of the originals in town, still open today. Sitting in one of the wrap-around booths, I’d get lost in the murals of old Mexico, and as we waited for our meals, I would lose myself in those painted streets.…