Question: Where has my writing gone? Answer: To pot.

I’ve been so busy making pots, plates, mugs, bowls, vases, I haven’t been writing much. And when I do write here, I’ve noticed, my posts are more and more about clay.

Good thing or bad thing? I’m trying not to judge. But it’s hard not to get caught up in our old cultural standards. Go to school. Graduate. Get that job and keep doing the same thing until you retire.


After doing art for decades and meeting some really wonderful artists, I’ve found out a few insider secrets. Artists who do art usually mix their media along the way. I know painters who love to sculpt. Print makers who love to paint. Sculptors who love to sew.

I started out as a writer. I went to college and studied communications. Graduated. Got that job and kept writing. I dabbled in art along the way, until one day, I realized I had to do art. I thought I was going to be a painter and turned out doing sculpture, masks and garden art in copper, window screening and clay. Now, I’m working in a new way with an old media. I’m throwing clay into bowls, vases, jars, plates and mugs.

Where did my writing go?

After a few years of art making, it found its way into the back doors (literally) of my mixed media sculptures. You can see them here. For years, I didn’t realize it. Someone else had to point it out to me. I was amazed. I hadn’t even known that’s what I was doing. Just like I didn’t know that I’d fall in love with wheel throwing and throw away metal. And for a while, I stopped writing too. Except about clay and according to our cultural standards, that doesn’t count, right?

Wrong.

If an artist is an artist no matter what media they use to make it, then that goes for writing, too. I was a writer and I still am. I may not write print ads, TV and radio spots or newsletters anymore because now I’m writing blogs, journal entries, essays and stories. Yes, ok, I’ll admit it, one of my stories seems to be growing into a novel.

The more I’m on this planet, the more I see that life is not what they tell you it’s going to be. Sometimes that’s bad. But, most of the time, it’s good. Maybe the pots are helping my plots. I don’t know now. Here’s what I do know, it doesn't matter now. Maybe someday, someone will see the connection and be nice enough to point it out to me. And I can be amazed all over again.