heather goff ART

April 2, 2024
This evening, to the sound of the rain and the crackling fire, my middle adult child, Hannah Moore, and I peacefully decorated eggs. I experimented with using hot sloppy glue as a resist on the shells and dipping them into dye, while Hannah decorated hers meticulously with markers. The techniques and styles differed, but the focus and soothing quiet space between conversational reflection flowed seamlessly in-step and without effort.

This ritual, begun when my kids were just toddlers, is what renews me at Easter. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I was happily pushing hot glue into spherical patterns. Thank you, Hannah, for making sure we scheduled a time where I could revel in the creative process, too. 💕It is so easy to step into the role of organizer during the holidays and forget how much fun it is to participate. ...

I’m practicing doodling while listening in on remote meetings. My goal is to loosen up and draw without the conscious mind interfering - to just flow and let whatever emerges emerge. My hope is that this will crack something new open in my intentional compositions. I’m finding it fun, but challenging. It’s hard to get my inner judge to stop judging. ...

I had fun decorating some dinner plates today. They are raw clay that I covered with white slip and then carved through. I hope they survive drying and multiple firings. 🤞 the photos show the front and back of the plate. ...

October’s full moon riding. 🌙❤️😊 ...

Cinnamon Apple Skillet cake from the @marthasvineyardmagazine Food section online (I subscribe to their “Cook the Vineyard” newsletter) SO delicious and perfect for this cool October day. 💕

The newsletter is compiled and written by @sixburnersue who also puts out her own fabulous writing available through Substack. 💕 ...

I had a blast witnessing and assisting in the first firing of the @merryfarmpottery wood kiln. What a wonderful sense of community and camaraderie a wood kiln firing inspires! The last slide shows the surface on a piece that I had in the kiln. The mermaid relief was raw clay going in. I love the blush from the ash and salt. The glaze on the bottom was made by @creneyceramics and contained some island clay and wood ash. My head is stuffed with ideas for the next opportunity to fire in flame. 😊 ...

I just stocked the shelves with new bowls and cups. 😊💕🌸 ...

I unloaded a glaze kiln yesterday. It feels great to be making progress on all the various projects happening in my studio these days. Our shop is open 11-5 Monday-Saturday and 2-5 on Sunday. 😊 ...

I’m so excited about my new spice bowl designs and the decorated cups/vases that are waiting for the next firing. 😊 ...

One of my finished masks and a work in progress. 😊 ...

We said goodbye to Frankie today. 💔 I wrote this poem about him several weeks ago.
The Old Dog
by Heather Goff
03/01/23

The old dog trusts blindly
bumping into walls
stuck in corners
until I gently set him right.

18 months gone
his family moving overseas
he joined us
the forgotten puzzle piece
shaped by years to fill their needs
dropped off at a strange house
now the odd one out
welcomed with my sigh of resignation.

Fed and walked with my dogs
he felt for a fit
sunning on the summer deck
by the winter wood stove,
out of the way at first
then gradually underfoot
tripped over more often than not.

The months ground his age up a year
and again
clouding his eyes dark
distilling him to knobby bone
bowed like the uncomfortable arch of the grave,
his gait marionette stiff.

His dependency looped strings to me
tugging my attention:
first the steps to outside,
then the cycle of diapers washed and dried,
stretching soft fleece over his cold frame,
each new task another hook in my chest.

Now the dark hour before dawn,
I lift him cradled to my breast
safe from the resentful nips
of the sleeping host.

And carry him outside
standing vigil
as he presses his back legs down
a stream of liquid staining the ground
then curls further to eliminate
before wide turning
a boat adrift from its mooring
to face the steps.

Entering the house
I gather him close
whispering in his deafness
that I recognize his goodness
and refastening his diaper
I take a moment to rub spine and ears
Then turn to climb back to my slumber
as he circles once and collapses onto his bed.

For how can I not love
the one who needs so much
yet asks for nothing. ...