People

My great grandparents, or maybe great-great grandparents came to the US. I am happy that they came here. My family is a mixture of Polish, German, Scottish, English and more. One of the best things of America is the diversity and mixing of cultures, heritages, ideas. People here talk about being some nationality and they take pride in their history. However, this history has been Americanized, adapted. 

I met some people from the Netherlands last summer. Interestingly, they felt like they had more in common with the Amish people in Pennsylvania than the Dutch people in Michigan. They had to speak to the Dutch people that they met in English and could communicate easier with the Pennsylvania people. I would not have thought of that. 

I think about my own life and how I have changed and grown by moving to different areas. Each area has new people to meet, new places to visit and new traditions to discover, making life richer. Every person that I met has a different perspective on life and I find it fascinating. 

My family moved to the states for opportunity for themselves and future generations. I don't understand the opinions of keeping people out of this country. Most of our families were not here. How can I then turn around and say that others can not be here? If my family had not been able to come, they would not have met the spouses that they did, they would not have built the lives that they did, worked, had children, etc. and I would not exist. Each time people come to the US, they bring their culture, history and ideas. There are a lot of cultures and customs that I do not know. We can all learn from each other. 

Making Nothing

Sometimes the process of making is the important part, the actual making is the after thought, the possible outcome. This week, I got all of the tools ready. I wedged the clay and stuck in on the wheel. I relaxed into the chair and turned the wheel on. The slippery gooey clay formed in between my fingers, the noise of the motor whirred as the wheel turned, the forms mesmerized me as the clay turned. Pure bliss. The clay rose and fell as I squished it. My fingers were covered and slop stuck to my hands and arms. Amazing. When the clay was ready, I put a hole in the middle and started to form it. I was just in the moment. I didn't have pressure to make anything, just to play. As I was nearing the end of forming it, it flopped. This round was for the experience, not the product. Sometimes, that is way better than making something. There is no worry about what it will be, how to finish it, or fear that it won't turn out, cause sometimes it is just about the making of nothing.