I'll Know It When I Find It

Among my fun neuro-alternative traits are my inclination to throw myself headlong into a new interest and sometimes to drop an old interest like a hot rock. When I am discovering something new I want to know everything about it right now, but doing things I don't want to do - like the infamous Slug Assignment - is like pulling teeth.

The Slug Assignment was part of my horticulture course in 2019. While I couldn't get enough of subjects like Plant Identification and Propagation, Pest Control was significantly less glamorous, especially when my group landed investigation of the common slug. I got the assignment done to a satisfactory standard, but the experience permanently tainted my entire view of 'study'.

By contrast, the summer I set out to learn about ceramic glaze chemistry remains one of the best times of my life. I forked out hundreds of dollars for an online course and spent many hot days hiding in the house learning about the Unity Molecular Formula, the work of Seger and Stull, the Orton Pyrometric Cone Chart, and the periodic table of elements. I learned how to balance alkaline earth and metal fluxes, how to influence glaze texture by balancing silica and alumina ratios, how to use the right amount of boron to get a glaze that melts without running off the pot, and how to create a Bristol glaze reaction with zinc and calcium. I learned how to make pink using chrome and tin, how to get zinc crystals in a glaze, and how titanium and rutile can add depth and interest to a glaze finish.

I still enjoy formulating glazes and trying them on my ceramic pieces. I don't intend to do clay forever, although I still enjoy my studio time. It's a resource-hungry hobby, and I have to sell what I make in order to keep making. Proceeds from pottery have paid for my horse float and my failed venture into equine artificial breeding in the past couple of years, but sales are down this year due to rising costs of everything.

Over the years I have picked up and put down all sorts of passions. Gardening got a bit too physically demanding, and to be honest even after all that study I am still not very good at it. I spent 15 years on my goats and making soap and cheese, but it took an emotional toll and while backing away from it has been hard, it has also been a bit of a relief.

Home brewing, sourdough, fermenting, bottling and preserving had their time in the sun. I've got a lot of kit kicking around in boxes and cupboards that I should look at finding new homes for. Cheese press and moulds, fermenting crock, preserving kit, swing-top bottles. But you never know when you might get the motivation to give it another go.

When I gave up horses after losing Rusty I practically gave away the last of my registered ponies. I sold my float cheaply, and sold or gave away a lot of my gear. It was the right thing for me to do at the time. But I also let go of who I was as a horse person. I used to be someone. Breeder, trainer, rider, instructor, showjumping judge and course designer. I had a presence and an identity in the local horse world.

At a local seminar last October, the organiser asked for a show of hands. Who was a horse industry professional, or equine-focused business owner? Who was a rider? Who was a trainer? I wasn't any of these. I was just a horsey person on a journey, searching for understanding and somewhere to anchor myself in a vast sea of opinions, methods and theories.

A few short years ago I was of the opinion that horses were basically a life support system for a flight response and people who got on their backs were insane. I would look at my own mares in the paddock and have no idea what they were thinking, what their motivations were or what they were going to do next. I had lost my belief in the magic of horses, and I didn't have enough knowledge to bridge that gap.

I spent the past winter in my pottery studio listening to podcast interviews with interesting horse people and finding my way back to the source. I am a radical thinker, as interested in the minutiae as I am in the big picture. I want to understand how things work and why, but I also want results in real time, otherwise... next!

That I can now confidently handle all my ponies, even ride a little bit, and do it all with no big physical effort is quite an achievement for me. Beginning to understand the motivations of these large herbivores with hair-trigger reflexes and nervous systems as delicate as our own has been like opening a door I had never noticed before. Delving into biomechanics, sensory processing and even the equine metabolism has given me insight into the horse that I never even imagined back in the days when I was teaching at Pony Club and competing in horse trials.

At some point I suspect I will find the next thing that captures and intrigues me, deep within the workings of the horse. Maybe then I will be motivated to study again and you'll all have to deal with me hyperfocusing on another niche interest while I learn it from its cellular level to its broader ramifications. I don't know yet what this thing will be, but I feel like I have landed in the general vicinity and if I take the time to look around I will find it. And when I do, I will know. And so will you.