I have been lost in a sea of thoughts about art, and specifically clay. After almost a year and a half of not making anything (well, that I wanted to make - we were, after all, rebuilding a house), having the opportunity to return to work has been a bit of a mixed bag. The excitement of knowing that I would be able to create again was exhilarating, and at the same time, unnerving. There is a feeling with creating (at least for me) that whatever I have last made will be the final thing I ever make. This feeling happened when I painted, and it happens just the same with clay. Despite this feeling, I seem to keep making - perhaps just to identify what will come next, or to see if I can discover the finishes I find elusive.
There is a part of me that still struggles with the glazing/finishing process. I find that my brain wants to mix and layer glazes as I would have done with paint, but the outcome with glazing is very different and rarely, perhaps never, does the end result in what I hoped to achieve. I appreciate this with the clay process though - the unknown, the guessing games, the who-knows-what-this-will-look-like-when-it's-done feeling. There is something therapeutic in the time spent and not truly knowing what the end will be.
I suppose, at least in part, this unknown factor is what draws me to ceramic work. I find something akin to life in the process of creating with clay. Spending hours, perhaps days with a piece, only to have it collapse on itself because the structure of the clay was not strong enough; finishing something that I have fallen in love with, only to have it break apart in the firing process; making it through both building and firing to the final glazing process to discover that the finish isn't what I had imagined at all.
We don't get to predict what life will bring to us. We can try to control it, or think we are masters of our own destiny, but ultimately, life will do what it is going to do and I can only control my own reactions to what comes. Much like a clay piece, sometimes life just explodes in unpredictable ways and we have to decide if we are going to fall apart, rebuild, repair, or change everything up and try again. I am still learning this lesson, and perhaps it is why clay speaks to me so strongly. Though I want to think I have gained wisdom in my decades on earth, occasionally I receive reminders that my principal job is to decide how I will react, not to have ultimate control of an undertaking.
I would love to try to predict what will happen, what will be made, how pieces will be finished, or where those items may end up in 2023, but I know it is foolish. Instead, I remind myself that right now, here in this moment, I am so very grateful for the time I have had thus far in this latter part of the year, in this new studio space, to find my creative self again. We (and especially Sam) worked hard to make this a space that would not only function for the needs of a maker, but to be a space that this maker would want to work in daily. I am grateful for so much, even when I have moments of doubt or stress.
As we move forward, I look forward to whatever comes this way and to figuring out how to work through, around, or with whatever obstacles may be presented. I also anticipate continuing to work with clay and to learning as much as possible in the process.
Wishing a wonderful holiday season to all and only the very best in the coming new year!
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