A few weeks ago, I brought home a piece of pottery from an artist whose work I’ve long admired. it’s a little blob of a chalice with rough edges and a gloopy glaze that makes it look like it was sculpted from melted marshmallow. “I’m a sloppy potter,” Paula said as I tuned over the vase to reveal an unfinished join and moon face base. “My work lacks integrity,” she added in a way that made zero apology for her lumpy rim and lopsided base. For someone who works painstakingly to smooth her joins, lumps and bumps, Paula’s attitude both inspires and infuriates me. My nine-year-old daughter brings home more polished work. And there it is. The child. That’s what I see. That’s what I am drawn to in Paula Grief‘s work and what I connect to in most art I like. A childlike sense of play and freedom and imagination. Clean joins and finished edges mean nothing in the absence of these key elements. Not caring about what other people think is the game changer. Paula doesn’t give a toss about appealing to a wide audience. “I make things that I think my friends will like.” Sounds like creative integrity to me.
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