Sometime each spring, I find myself scrolling through the various list-icles that come out in anticipation of summer: concerts and festivals, ultimate escapes, family beaches, street food, an array of bucket lists… At some point I start thinking about my own, which tends to include things like eat my weight in fresh peaches and spend plenty of time in local rivers.
Because for all the amazing lists of potential adventures, it’s the stuff in our own backyard (so to speak) that tends to typify summer for me. I think about the pools between the smooth boulders in the Yuba River, packing inner tubes and floating down the American with friends, looking for crayfish in the shallows of Putah Creek, or watching sunflowers change color in the setting sun on a nearby field.
And I’m sure most of you have a list, too. They’re the places that don’t show up in travel magazines. It’s the hill behind your house where someone left a swing for everyone to use or the cove on a nearby beach that you can only reach when the tide is low. It’s the field from where, on a clear night, you’ve counted dozens of shooting stars and can always see the milky way. It’s the spot in the lake where it’s deep enough to leap from the rocks… again and again. Or it’s the little fish shack by the side of the road that you discovered makes the best off-menu tacos and lets you bring your own wine.
With summer now in full swing, I’d love to know what it is.
We read Between the World and Me for bookclub this month and last night happened to be the night we met to discuss Ta-Nehisi Coates’ powerful book about America’s racial history—which is written as an open letter to his 15-year-old black son. It was an emotional night. I think we all came away glad that we took the time to talk to friends about what we’re seeing, how we’re feeling, and how Coates makes you think about race and power and identity in ways that go even beyond the visceral reaction one has to deeply disturbing footage that has become all too common. As a white person who has to come to terms with privilege that is no doubt predicated on the lack thereof for others, it’s hard to know how to speak up and be part of the change. I am glad to see that our president hasn’t shied away from calling out systemic injustice as being at the root of what is happening and I wish we saw even more of the leaders in our community doing the same.
As I look at these fields of gold today, these Sunflower fields that back up to our neighborhood, and the pictures, below, of my kids stepping into them—technically trespassing on a local farmer’s land—they take on another valence. They’re just as beautiful of course, but I also think about how another family—one who is not white—might not feel the same freedom to cross the street and step up to see if they smell. Having no fear is a privilege. And I’m so sad to think of all the fear being felt today.
I’ve gathered some of the usual links—all good distractions—but I wanted to start with some of the things I’ve been drawn to in light of the violence we’ve witnessed these past few days.
When designing your home, it’s important to remember that not all artwork hangs on your walls. Beautifully crafted modern ceramics are truly works of art in and of themselves, and adding those one-of-a-kind items (you know, the ones that you can’t seem to get out of your head even after you’ve left the shop/fair/website) is an easy way to infuse your personality into a space. Of course, one-off pieces can get expensive since you’re paying for the artist’s time, skill, eye, and materials, and then usually a markup at the retail level. That’s why I love finding ceramics on Etsy, where you can purchase direct from the makers themselves!
There are scores of talented people on Etsy making crazy beautiful things (love you guys!), but here are my top ten favorite Etsy shops for gorgeous, modern handmade ceramics:
