Why does the muse strike me at all the most extreme times of the year? I notice that this is happening to other potters right now as well. My theory takes me back to my childhood. The summers here were brutally hot but we really didn't feel the heat as much as we do today. We were conditioned. We had no air conditioning and no one else did either. We coped by opening the doors and windows and using fans to circulate the air. We slept on a screened back porch or in the back yard. During the day I would play in the cool dirt on the shady side of the house. I guess I still am playing in the dirt on the shady side of the house.
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