I woke up after a night of sleep that confused me. It was one of those nights in which dreams and realities were blurred into one single string of memory. Santa Rosa was a beautiful place–not only physically beautiful. There was a sense of beauty that radiated within and around the people. Being a socialist commune there is understanding and equality throughout all of the people. After eating a delicious fruit breakfast we made the hike to go dig clay. A lady explained to us that she knew there was clay in the forest because of the cracked ground. After carrying bags of clay back to the house we all piled up in our van and drove to their studio. As soon as we entered the studio we were all dumbfounded by the beautiful pots for sale. Each of us got into our defensive mode– picking out our favorites– trading so carefully it was as if we were trading years off of our lives. We watched multiple demonstrations of throwing on the kick wheel. These people were definitely the best potters I have ever seen throw. The way they used the kick wheel looked like a form of art and expression alone. There was a rhythm and elegance to their throwing that mesmerized me. For the rest of the day people went on and off of the wheel. All of the Nicaraguans gave us the utmost attention when one of us were throwing. Hazelgrove demonstrated the Steve Tool, which is a texture tool that we brought for them to have. When he slowed the wheel down to show them the results they started clapping in such a genuine way. One of the cooledt parts of the trip was seeing Robert throw. It was his first time in 4 years (or something like that) and it looked like he had thrown yesterday. The day seemed to pass slowly. All of the other girls lost interest in watching people throw and went into the other room. I stayed fascinated and continued to watch. After lunch we returned to pay for our pots and continue watching each other throw. Even though I am not a true potter I appreciated the way they were learning from our techniques and vise-versa. We left Santa Rosa later that evening. I wish we could have stayed longer– the aura of the place was perfect for the now. After a couple of hours of driving we arrived at the NGO. “Knock knock, honk honk, honk” it took a while for someone to unlock the gates. I am not sure what city this was, but I do know that it was only 7 minutes from the Honduras border.

We all sat  outside for a while that night and talked about tv. I can’t draw but I drew this picture while the Maggies were sitting next to each other.