Does anyone make pour-over coffee still?

Writing in Snoqualmie from the lodge with a warm cup of caramel mocha next to me. I left my journal at home and now am led to reflect on the difference between writing in the journal first versus typing the post directly into the webpage. I feel more inclined to share links* and it’s less organic than the sensation of pen on paper. Luckily, I have my trusty notepad with me so I organized my thoughts, but forgive me if this is post ends up being one of my more disjointed ones.

I am now typing this in a font that looks like little people stretching into extraordinary shapes.

It is awesome but there are no apostrophes and everything is uppercase so I fear it looks a little loud. I love how the guy creating the “i” shape is just standing still.

This week I learned that the more you wait for something, the easier it is to wait. You can stop wondering if certain Instagram posts are tests of your patience to see someone you miss or whether the new car for you is really out there. That is, unless you are stuck in traffic on I-5 (omg there are people for the numbers too) North, and you are late for your nail appointment even though the GPS said you would be there by 5:30!! It was okay though, the nail techs were accomodating and complimented my nail beds.

Font change! This one is a little squished together but what a fun challenge for me to try and read back later!

Now I will write about my hopes and dreams.

It has been several exhausting, albeit productive, days in a row now where I get home after 9 o’clock, and this afternoon has been the first in a while where I can breathe.** I’ve watched a Florian Gadsby video and it has restored the excitement and ambition I have to work in ceramics. I want to have a nice studio one day, with my own kiln and tungsten carbide tools, and kidneys in every shade under the sun. I like nice things that last a long time, and things that make you want to take care of them (people too). Thinking for even a few minutes about all the possibilities there are in the world of ceramics makes me feel energized to throw three pots in a row. Or maybe that’s the mocha talking. Regardless, ceramics feels like something I was born to do because it requires attention to detail, balance, and perseverance.

This font is so crazy. Every time I stop concentrating on reading the letters, it looks like a barcode, or a printer mishap. I will be impressed with myself if I finish this with no typos.

(Font changes again to an array of scribbles.)

My car is totaled.

Part of the reason it has been hard to breathe the past several days is because I have bee n stressing about dealing with insurance, which makes it as hard as possible to get anything done. I have overcome the fear of renting a car for an extended period of time, because my car-literate uncle has instilled a rage in me towards insurance agents who lowball me on the value of my vehicle. I spent last night researching dealer prices for similar cars to mine, and have come to the conclusion that I've been taken for a fool. Well Mr. Insurance, you have another thing coming. I have records. I have comps. I have passive aggressive emails for days. I will not rest until I am paid my due. $#*^!!!***