not a vase a container for thoughts.

A thought about WInter Ceramics.

We have spent some afternoons creatively working in the same room, together. This room- large and dusty and winding. It has so many treasures, so many nooks, crannies, minerals and laughs. It let me come in with frustration and I didn't need to take them out on anyone- not matter what the clay was there to absorb. I made many ugly and non functional pots. I made sharp edges, vessels and collapsing sagging bodies of earth. I couldn't love each one more- honestly. Each pot like a child, each glaze a surprise and each sorrow a lift towards better or crazier art.

My challenges are embraced within what I can handle at the time, and ultimately clay just handles me inward and outward.
I have been lucky to see the work of each person here. It had been over 10 years since I was involved in a pottery studio. It took me all quarter to get comfortable with what I was doing. I am now comfy and it is time to go- so our teacher can ride his bike, so the studio can be cared for and so my work can be not quite perfection for the next 1 million years.