Sorok

This is Field Note No. 40.

The number that became my name.

Many years ago, after immigrating to the United States, I entered the deepest depression of my life.

One evening I felt an increasing need to say goodbye.

I called my childhood friend in Russia. International phone calls were expensive then, but I wanted to hear Lena's voice one more time.

She listened.

Then she laughed.

"I cannot believe you can be depressed."

"You?"

"You were always the fastest airplane."

"We called you Yak-40."

That had been my nickname in grade school.

I was fast.

Fast at walking.

Fast at talking.

Fast at studying.

Fast at finishing tests.

Fast at coming to someone's rescue.

Fast at judging, too. )))

After hanging up,

I walked of no direction.

It was already evening when I noticed a small pottery studio that was still open.

I had never been inside.

One could paint there some household items.

I chose a small bisque box.

Eight dollars for the box.

Eight dollars for an hour of painting.

Sixteen dollars, I counted.

I had them.

But I had no idea what to paint.

Near the entrance sat the owner's husband.

He had been unable to walk for many years after a skiing accident.

Beside him sat a small black curly dog named Buddy.

I only had an hour before they would be closed.

I was the only customer this late hour.

I painted them with one blue color of underglaze.

Layer upon layer.

Before firing, the painting almost disappeared.

Underglaze was so pale that it was difficult to see what was there even for me while painting.

I left the box to be glazed and fired.

Several days later I returned to pick it up.

The owner greeted me with unexpected words.

"I can't give you your box."

She said she had to have it.

I said "it is yours" and smiled.

I did not need that box.

She said I could come, sit, and paint any day and every day and I would be paid as an employee.

That was how the field lifted me.

Later, the same woman — Prudy, short for her real name Prudence — arranged for one of my ceramic pieces to become part of a collective exhibition of Massachusetts ceramic artists.

For that exhibition I had to write a short biography.

And while writing it, I remembered that evening that started the path of ceramic artist.

Yak-40.

The fastest airplane.

I chose my artistic name:

Katya Sorok — Katya 40.

Years later, I gave that surname to my son as his official one.

My own official surname also starts with letters SO.

KATYASO is the origin for both of them before they split into two paths: the fastest number and the place of the sun. Sorok and Solstad.