Vicious, viscous, victorious, vitreous. That last word has been humming around in my head for a week. Vitreous describes a material such as ceramic which has melted into itself, creating a glass-like and waterproof material. Clay molecules “stick” to one another as they are heated to liquid and taken to a high enough temperature the molecules melt into a solid mass. Vitreous porcelain, as one example, has been fired so hot that the clay molecules melt into one another to make an impervious whole. Thin enough, you can see through some china.

In about 1973, Bob Sperry gave all the Ceramic Art majors an assignment to collaborate—the throwers he worked with would pair with the hand-builders who worked with Howard Kottler and Patti Warashina. Together they would create something. As a hand-builder, I paired with a thrower, Sam Scott, whom I had known since we both hung out most of the day in the ceramics room during high school. I gave him my low-fire white clay body to substitute for his usual stoneware on the wheel, and a design profile for a covered casserole dish.

The result of the experience changed Sam’s work. Turned out he loved white clay and began throwing with a porcelain clay body as he had previously thrown stoneware—thicker than people generally throw porcelain but a perfect canvas for his iron and cobalt brushwork. (Another friend threw stoneware thin as porcelain.) My family was hard on the many pieces I bought from him, but I managed to hide a few survivors. A massive platter and some bowls. They are handsome pieces.

Vitreous.

Vicious, viscous, victorious, vitreous. The other day, “56 years after Bloody Sunday, President Biden signed an executive order ‘to promote voting access and allow all eligible Americans to participate in our democracy.’ He called on Congress to pass the For the People Act, making it easier to vote, and to restore the Voting Rights Act, now named the John R. Lewis Voting Rights Act after the man who went on from his days in the Civil Rights Movement to serve 17 terms as a representative from Georgia, bearing the scars of March 7, 1965, until he died on July 17, 2020.

“The fact sheet from the White House announcing the executive order explained: ‘democracy doesn’t happen by accident. We have to defend, strengthen, and renew it.’ Or, as Representative Lewis put it: ‘Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble.’ ”

Necessary trouble. On our morning walk I did not talk to the couple throwing a ball for their black dog into the surf. Dogs are not all that bright, and they are nothing if not trusting. Occasionally what we call a “ball dog” struggles to get back out of heavy surf. I have even seen dogs refuse to go back in after being rolled over and over by a breaker. Why would a dog lover send a dog back into such surf?

I watched that black dog run into the water over and over after her ball. I said nothing. It was blowing a gale, intermittent rain and hail, an outgoing tide, a high surf advisory. I said nothing. The dog was safe enough. Her owners did not want to get close to the water themselves, which was wise. They also were not using a throwing stick and were bad throwers. Thus the dog never went into more than a foot of water. I said nothing, but I did keep an eye on that dog. No good trouble there. The dog was malleable but safe.

Vicious, victorious, vitreous, viscous. Clay is an ancient human resource. Ceramic objects have been fired in wood kilns almost as long as we have been human. I have loved pushing clay around since before I started school. It was first major and degree at the University of Washington. Even today I notice ceramics and I have many ceramic art works. They are stashed in china cabinets and the glassed top of my grandmother’s desk, on tables, and in bookcases. I have bowls containing agates and rust and broken fishing tackle found on the beach. No trouble there.

I wish we had our vaccines by now. (Theoretically we are eligible, but our county is behind in vaccinations.) Most of the people we know have either had covid or been vaccinated or both. We have been very careful, but, like everyone, we miss people and places. Family, friends, the Farmers Market. Traveling is not good trouble. The reason covid variants have spread so quickly is entitled people traveling and our national carelessness in failing to require and follow more stringent policies of masking, distancing, and seclusion.

A recent news article reviews how wealthier countries in the world have suffered far more deaths than poor countries. This is not at all typical of diseases. It is generally poorer nations that suffer most, instead of affluent ones. Scientists claim not to understand the reasons for this. Even adjusting for underreporting in poorer nations and other variables, Western Europe and the U.S. have dramatically more hospitalizations and deaths than, for example, South American and African nations. Of course, in the U.S. it is more often poorer people who have died in our wealthy country. Four percent of the world’s population and 20% of the death from covid? Why? The reason seems perfectly obvious to me. We travel.

In the news, a person from the midwest complained in comments that because of a mask-burning protest in Idaho, they were forced to reconsider traveling there for a “family ski vacation.” Dozens of responses recommended ski venues throughout the western states and Canada (despite numerous sensible people pointing out that Americans cannot travel to Canada just now). Despite the obvious foolishness of anyone flying around the country for a vacation during a pandemic. So much concern for airlines, which are heavily subsidized because affluent people want to travel. They want to be safe. So the UK and South African and other variants show up all over the U.S. and poor people die.

How to make good trouble?

Thinking of others would help. Clinging to one another in place. Truly, if everyone but medical personnel had stayed put for a few weeks, we’d have licked the virus last March instead of still fighting it a year later.

Vicious, viscous, vitreous, victorious. We melt together, but despite our failure as the “melting pot” nation, we are a nation of many individuals. When we allow selfish preference to outweigh the good of the many, people die. We are a wealthy and powerful country. We need to care more about one another. We need to stick together.

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