Bonfire heart

That’s a song, Bonfire Heart by James Blunt.  If you know me, you know my story.  You know that the hot shop is my true love, where I feel myself, where I feel whole, where I belong.  We fight – me and the hot shop, sometimes we get violent and I get burned.  But its where I always return to.  It’s where at my darkest moments it makes me focus, express myself and sweat it out until the point of exhaustion which helps me to have a good sleep.  It works my body so hard during the blow slot that I don’t feel how sore my muscles are until the next day or two.

I quit my job a week ago.  I no longer felt safe, I no longer felt like I belonged, and it served me no purpose.  With that comes a lot of healing to be done, some thinking, stressing, planning, and more stressing.  What am I doing with my life? I think my blow slot yesterday demonstrated just that what exactly are you doing Toni Johnson…. what?! Well, I don’t know.  But lets try this and find out – what’s the worst that could happen when you experiment in the hot shop? Some flop and some turn into Jelly fish or sea urchins… some after numerous flops turn into sea stars.

I talked to my older brother the other day, sometimes I FaceTime him and drink my morning coffee and get my dose of sibling abuse or rather honesty.  He said why the ocean Tone? Not everyone likes the ocean.  Umm pardon?! WHO?! Give me names? But I don’t just love the ocean… although it is the most beautiful anyway I love fall.  I love the colours of fall.  I love the fresh start.  I love sweaters too.

I love when you walk in the trails and the branches and sticks intertwine and natures textures are just gorgeous.  I love that no matter how hard I try I can never get the perfect impression… I love how big the trees are.  And the smell.

Yesterday I made my mom and baby brother help me (they hate the heat).  I said I am playing with fire and I need someone to stand by with this bucket of water… they helped.  The hot shop smelled like a bonfire.  I smelled like a bonfire.  You couldn’t see through the smoke and one point, and as I was blowing the glass my eyes started to water.  It was perfect.  The pieces may or may not be but the day was perfect.

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