I've been busy but not necessarily in the active, creative zone. Or so I thought.
If you've been reading my blog recently, it's all been about cleaning things out and discovering old work, not making new work. It's definitely been a trip in many ways, down my writing career memory lane, through the cul-de-sac of my children's childhood, and files from the last 20 years of art classes both taking and teaching as well as gallery shows, open studios and publications. I'm still not exactly sure why all this closet cleaning was necessary and I'm sure it will all come out in one of these days in another blog.
But today, I'm through with throwing out stuff and I want to throw. Clay.
I haven't been on my wheel in a while, so I sat down nervously expecting to be disappointed in what I threw. Why, after all this time, would I expect to be able to just sit down and produce? I'm not a production potter. I haven't been throwing for decades. And I don't do it everyday, lately, not for weeks. Throwing didn't come easily to me and I let that stop me for a very long time. Decades. But I refuse to let it stop me anymore.
Music, clay and water washed my self doubt away. Thank goodness!
I threw a few mugs, a couple of vases and all was well. Later in the week, I found myself hand building. Hand building, now that's completely different for me than throwing. When I roll out a slab, it just seems so easy to make a wine caddie or platter or jar or mask. This week, I got out my underglaze colors and painted a jar.
I don't feel I've spent any time at the wheel or in my studio at all for the past month or so. But amazingly, there's new art in there. Mugs. Vases. Wine Caddies. Plates. Even a new mask.
I felt like all I'd done was clean closets, organize and recycle.
But I guess I haven't just been getting rid of the old. I've been creating something new.