A Potter’s Freedom


There was something peaceful about being out in the middle of nowhere. Anna stepped out on her porch and looked towards the artfully shaped building that sat about a hundred yards away from her house. It was in the shape of a dodecahedron, with the roof being interlocking solar panels that controlled heat, light, and air conditioning in the summer. It saved on her electricity bills which gave her a little more freedom to fire up her electric kilns whenever she wanted. The building held everything she had ever wanted or needed to make pottery like she often had dreamed about the whole time she had been married.

Taking a long deep breath Anna, with a smile on her face, and a lightness in her heart that had not been there for far too long jogged across to her studio, picked out a bag a clay form her storage area and began her day throwing whatever she wanted, as much as she wanted.

The knock on her studio door startled her a little, but not enough to ruin what she was working on.

“Go away, whoever you are.”

The laugh, soft, but deep had her looking up and smiling.

“Shanna! When did you get here?” Anna turned off the wheel, wiped her hands as best as she could on the towel that was now full of a mix of wet and dry clay.

“I came to see you, dummy.” Shanna laughed as Anna approached and without thinking, pulled her into a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, well I think you left some of you all over me.” Shanna unrestrained laughter had Anna pulling back and laughing as well. “You better be glad that I don’t give two shits about these jeans and my t-shirt. If I had been wearing one of my Dolce and Gabanna, you would be in trouble missy.”

Anna bent over laughing so hard she almost hurt herself.

“You, Shanna Westland, have never in all your life owned anything Dolce and Gabbana.”

“I beg your pardon, there was that pair of shoes I picked up in Mexico. They swore up and down they were the genuine article.” The slight southern twang Shanna let slip into her voice had Anna shaking her head.

“Yeah, more like Dolce and Garbage. Come on, I have some fresh ice tea and some sandwiches already made up for when I decided to take a break. I might even have a lemon square or two.”

“You are terrible for my waistline, woman!”

“I know.” The two old friends linked arms together and walked towards the house where Anna served the tea and plated up the sandwiches, some fresh raw vegetables, some grapes, and the aforementioned lemon squares. She took the large tray out to the back porch where a latticework metal bistro set graced the porch. The chairs had deep, thick cushions that were extremely comfortable to sit on for hours on end. The sun was high, but not as hot as it had been in the late summer. A mild breeze blew around them as the shade of the roof helped protect them from the sun.

“Now, tell me what brings you all the way out here to back end of nowhere?”

“I think you just might have a show. Tucker Peterson, the owner of that gallery over in Colorado that you liked? He’s looking for some new artists and I just happened to be in, and I just happened to show him pictures of some of the things you’ve sent to me over the last year. He liked what he saw. A lot. He wants to meet you and see what else you’ve got.”

Anna laughed because she had a whole shed full of stuff she has thrown or sculpted over the last year. She didn’t really have any intention of selling at any gallery. She was considering some of the craft and art fairs around the state of Wyoming and lower part of Montana. A gallery show was a whole other complication she wasn’t sure if she was ready for.

“Anna, darlin’ it’s time you come out of hiding. You are extraordinarily talented. You always have been. You’ve never had a chance to find your niche or soar like you should. Just…I ask that you just meet with Tucker, you never know, he just might surprise you.”

And that was what Anna was afraid of.

The Journey Begins

Writing has been a passion of mine for a long time. I’ve dabbled in poetry, fanfiction, short stories and novelettes since I could remember. I have stories untold and ones I’ve only put a few words or thousands of words into. Each one has a meaning, a reason and sometimes that reason doesn’t always make sense to me, but I have enjoyed putting every word I can down onto paper.

Stories, ones you tell yourself have a kind of magic to them. They can be cathartic in times of stress and grief, or fun in times of joy. Stories can make your heart soar and expand your own mind. Not everyone wants to put their stories down on paper, or on a blog, but, there are many of us that do. I hope this to become a place where everyone can come and find a story that can uplift you, or break your heart. Make you think, or huddle in fear. Whatever it is that I am doing at the time I want, more than anything, for you to enjoy.

Now, there are a few rules, not many, but a few. This blog will be a live writing forum for myself and those stories I want to tell and can’t contain. What this means is, I may only do a short three or four hundred word snip of something, or I may spin a story out to several chapters. There will be errors, plot holes, grammar mistakes, and more. Stories will be polished up at a later time and the ones that have more legs to them will find a permanent home here on this site. Not every story, snippet, drabble, short-story or whatever form they take will be expanded on. Some with be starts and stops, some may never come to fruition. That is just how it is going to be. And, no amount of begging, pleading, and cajoling will make me change my mind.

So, what are the rules?

  1. No nonconsensual beta. I have a beta, three actually and if and when the time comes for the story to be polished they are who I will go to. Continual comments on anything technical or plot-wise will cause you to get banned.
  2. I do not always respond to comments. They are welcomed but don’t expect a comment back.
  3. Do not ask for more. As I stated above, this is a live writing blog. It will not always be updated, not all stories will have endings, some might not even have middles. Some of the writings may be ramblings, but whatever they are if I have not continued with it, do not ask for it. There may be a reason, and I do not have to explain that reason.
  4. As I stated comments are welcomed, but please be courteous to myself and any other person that may have commented before you. If you don’t like something, that is understandable. Not every person likes everything a writer writes. I am very self-aware of that. But, please just move along.
  5. This is my blog, and the content is what I choose it to be. I may in the future open up a post for reader story prompts. If you must give me a story prompt, that is fine, but it does not mean that I will write it. There are a few genres and tropes that I will not engage in. If I have not written your prompt its either because I didn’t want to, or there was something I did not like about the prompt. Any complaining and pushing for the prompt to be written may cause you to get banned.
  6. Have fun. Seriously. Have fun. I love engaging with readers, as long as everyone is respectful and compliant with my rules, this should be a fun and engaging blog.

Thank you for visiting