Playing Favorites

I answered several interview questions this week for a future article in a local magazine. The queries were interesting, insightful, and thought-provoking. I’m still thinking about one of the questions in particular – “Describe your favorite piece or one that stands out in particular.”

I’ve created a lot of pottery over the years and when I thought about answering this question, I had a hard time choosing one favorite. I tend to fall in love with the piece of pottery I am making at the moment. Even if I’ve made the shape in the past or over and over in a series, each one I develop holds its own value and personality for me. An advantage of having a home studio is the ability to nurture each stage of the creative process any time of day or night. I admit that I sometimes visit the studio just to admire and drink in what has been created that day or week. 

Of course, there are certain pots I’ve made that signify key developmental stages in my clay journey. The first large (heavy) platter I successfully threw on the wheel is still pulled out to serve food at a large gathering; a succession of bowls in various sizes I use while cooking on a daily basis; and a variety of hand-built containers I created as I learned new methods of shaping clay all stand out in my mind.

I answered the reporter’s question in a similar way. I mentioned how significant each piece I create is to me. And, I chose to describe one of the driftwood basket series I first made when we lived in Hilton Head, SC. I’d long thought about the idea of combining my love of knitting and clay. Initially, I’d wanted to somehow embellish the edge of a pot with stitched wire. But that’s how the creative process goes. I start off with a picture of one thing in my mind and as it evolves, it transforms into an even better idea. The driftwood baskets fit neatly into purchased wrought iron stands, incorporate collected driftwood from daily walks on the beach, and satisfied my desire to add a stitched element with a crocheted leather cord along the edge. 

This particular basket is destined to raise money for a charity called Village of Promise during a show I'm doing in Huntsville, Alabama in about a month. Want to bid on it and contribute to this wonderful cause? Click on the photo and send me a message and I'll get you in on the bidding!

Do you have a favorite ClayByLaura piece? I’d like to hear about it and tell me why! Click here to let me know!.

Out With The Old

I’ve never been a fan of finales. I can remember crying (hard) when the last episode of Lassie aired on television when I was a kid. I didn’t want to let it go. I’ve learned as I’ve grown to say my goodbyes and move forward. 

I’m thinking about all of this for a couple of reasons. I attended one of the last local performances of Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey circus this weekend. I felt a little lump in my throat during the final act, but realize this circus-model is no longer viable. It’s one more ending I’ll add to my list. 

Many years ago, when I was first trying to loosen my clay-making rigidity and mostly throwing pots on the wheel, I hand-built a series of bowls with torn edges and three spiral-coiled feet. I used a colorful palette of under glaze on the inside and each of the feet. These became nicknamed my cirque bowls. They were a departure for me and have led me to my current organic approach to making clay vessels. 

I made the bowl on the left many years ago with a potter's wheel. The bowl on the right was created more recently using a slab of clay pushed into shape over a mini basketball. Each one is a functional bowl; the aesthetic is different and shows how my clay art has evolved.   

I’ve learned to let go of old and familiar life patterns, experiences and things to make room for new ones to flourish. This time of year seems to lend itself to this shedding. Peeling away layers of clothing as the temperatures rise seems to be a good metaphor for noticing other life experiences that may need a good shake off. Old is comforting and familiar. New is unwieldy and unsettling. Honor what’s past, but move on. Embrace what will become and enjoy the ride. Those are my springtime mantras.