Addiction, COVID and UX Design
I decided tonight I am going to actually sit down and write my first blog post. What will I write about? Well, if you knew me you would know that I would say “ceramics, I’ll talk about ceramics”. This is because I am an addict. Most my thoughts through out the day are about ceramics. My goal each day is to optimize my time in order to have more time in the studio. In fact, I just got married a little over a week ago, while the wedding was a small affair on the beach, a close friend of mine was truly surprised that I did not get married at our art studio space!
Today I started my first class for a nanodegree program in UX. UX designers are the people who make websites and apps look pretty and user friendly, hopefully. Nanodegree is a project and skills based program with educational credentials. Average time to complete the nanodegree in UX is 3 months. I lost both my jobs due to COVID, first one in March and the second one in June. I have been searching for a job in the arts and/or education. Recently, my priorities have changed. Money is running out. I need to open up to something new and with some urgency. I have been doing art and education for so long it was hard to figure out what to do. Do I run out and get any job? It would be really hard to start work somewhere new if my heart was not going to be in it. Long story on how I landed on UX design but I did. The first allure was the human interaction and impact. There is a large thread of human psychology in design. I find it fascinating! So, I started this program today. So far, I am excited and have enjoyed the lessons very much. I think I may be able to do this. What will it amount to? I am not sure, but I am excited about the journey. What does any of this have to due with ceramics? Or better said, my addiction to ceramics? Lately, when I trim a pot off the bat, I scrape up the thin piece of clay left on the bat with a putty knife. I scrape it so that it starts to curl on itself. I delicately take these cannoli shaped bits and bisque fire them. I am collecting them. I have them in several colors and several sizes. What am I going to do with them? I have no idea! I do know I derive pleasure from the act of scraping and curling the wet clay patch that is left behind on the bat when one wires their pot off. It feels like a lovely ritual as I walk the delicate piece from the wheel to a shelf to dry out. I smile at the funny, odd shapes on the shelves every time I walk pass them. A few times I said “hi guys” as I walked pass them. People in the studio ask “ what are you doing with all those little pieces?” “I don’t know but I’m excited to find out.”