June 26, 2023

Rolling out a slab of clay is satisfying. So is making something from it. And just as satisfying is waking up the next day knowing that the thing I made yesterday is waiting for me today. I am in a flow. Maybe I get to smooth down all the lumpy surfaces, add handles or carve into the rim. Maybe I get to paint the whole thing blue. But the point is, I am not starting from scratch; I have something to return to, something that’s alive and emergent. It’s like planting flowers in garden beds that you prepped the day before or lathering a crumb coat on a cake that’s been in the freezer since last week. Of course, in order to have work to return to, there have to be many hours spent wedging clay, tilling soil and cracking eggs. It’s the ground work, the grunt work, and the rewards are precious and fleeting. Soon enough the bowl will be fired, the cake will be eaten and our hands will once again be filled with raw clay, flour and the hope of what might be.


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