Happy is the man who is satisfied to _push himself to turn ever more
useful and/or handsome round, off center or eccentric turned pieces.
Also fairly content is the person who is _pulled beyond the lathe and
has the ability and the talent (which is inborn) to produce objects of
beauty and/or meaning. They may not be round and may not show any
kinship with the lathe. Not so fortunate is the able turner who lacks
the talent but feels the pull. He suffers the misery of knowing that
although he can push til doomsday with his brain and muscles, his soul,
spirit, genes or whatever make the lathe his limit. He can take
lessons, practice, study art and design, beg for critiques, push, push,
push. Further, he can justify, belittle, scorn, compensate and deny.
Trying to fool himself doesn't work. In the end when he can exert the
_push and ignore the _pull he will be a turner at peace with his lack of
talent and can fully enjoy his craft. Anybody you know?

This nonsense,must be due to listening to the "Pathetique" on a CD, or
wondering about the implications of Good Friday, or maybe just the gray
skies today. More likely it's due to the undeniable failure of a 'work
of art' I tried to make this morning.

I'm not one to bellyache for very long, so.. A Blessed Easter Sunday or
a good day, April 11th to all, whatever your beliefs or if you have
none.

Thanks for letting me work thru my ill- fated art phase. Mercifully,
unlike my posts, it was brief. Arch

Fortiter,