Thank you 2025 Word of the Year: Thrive

 

I’ve had a hell of a few years from 2022 to 2025. Here’s a recap:

2022 - 4th of July flood in my house, damage took a year to repair. 

2023 - My husband got laid off. We lost income and health insurance. It took 6 months for me to get Social Security and Medicare. 

2024 - The year of Misdiagnosed Illness that ended in major surgery to repair. 

2025 - Recovery from surgery both physical and emotional. Didn’t know about PTSD

But I’m here. I survived. And that’s why I picked Thrive as last years word of the year. 

Because I wanted and needed and hoped, now I’d be able to Thrive, not just survive.   

And I did. 

It wasn’t easy or fun. There was still pain and physical limits. And after I worked my way through all that, I got hit upside the head with trauma. Now, I’d had surgery before: 2 C sections, 1 broken wrist, 1 skin cancer removal. But none of them hit me like this surgery did. Every little twinge sent me into the fear zone. 

And I understand it now, thanks to support from others who’ve been through it. And books about it. And, most importantly, thank you, my  Substack friends who have been down this rough road ahead of me and were here to shine a light for me to see by.  

Art as therapy. Throwing is out. 

After the surgery, I couldn’t do my art the same way anymore. I used to love throwing clay on the wheel. But it uses my abdominals and it was very uncomfortable. I had to let it go and move on. Honestly, now I know, it was time anyway.

I was gifted a wheel and kiln from a wonderfully supportive couple decades ago. They loved my copper work, saw my clay work and gave me a huge gift. I was a failure at throwing in high school. (Cue embarrassing clay incident: clay sailing off wheel and hitting the wall behind me. WTF) Yeah. I went back to ‘school’ and learned to throw. I even sold it at shows and galleries. 

But I’m not a production potter. What I truly love is sculpture and faces and masks. And over the months, my surgery recovery led me back to where I’d began. I didn’t realize it at first. I was just ‘goofing’ around and trying to do whatever my body would allow. 

Relief.

It all started with doodling. When I was still unable to do much, I was gifted with a set of sparkle gel pens and a drawing pad. Some days, all I could do was doodle. Maybe swish some watercolor paints around. And crochet. 

But I worked my way back to my studio. I had a little clay left, so I rolled it out and played around. Here’s what found me: drawings and watercolors coming to life in clay. What a weird idea, right? 

I made one, then another and another. 

Then a face appeared. It sat on the shelf, alone. Until one day, I looked up at the sunflowers in my kitchen and got an idea. 

Soon, in addition to the sunflower, a poppy, gingko and oak leave reliefs appeared. 

I’m not sure how or where I’m going to be able to show them. But I’m hoping  somewhere, somehow, someone will help make it happen. 

That these new pieces, along with me, will thrive. 

Bloom

Things are flowering in my studio. I don’t know why. I didn’t make sketches or take pictures or plan or conceptualize designs. 

I got out my clay. Rolled out a slab and set it aside.The next day, I rolled out some more clay and started cutting it up. Leaves appeared. Petals popped up. Why? 

Ok, I do love flowers. I don’t buy big bouquets. Instead, I splurge on one small bunch of flowers every week at Trader Joe’s. Whatever is in season: Sunflowers, Dahlias, Chrysanthemums, Gerbera Daisies. And I get an orchid plant to put behind my sink and baby it until it goes, then I get another one. 

Clay Blooms. 

It never occurred to me to make flowers in clay, but they’re here and they’re growing. I have to wonder again, why? Is there something going on around me I’m not aware of? Some plant or flower fairy waving her magic wand?

I did three in a row and stopped. I thought that was it and that’s fine. 

A clay circle. 

I went into the studio another day,  got out my clay and cut it into a circle. Soon the circle had a nose. Then eyes. And lips. Ok, so I made a face. Not in the way I’ve ever made faces or sculpted clay. But there it was on my board, so I propped it up on top of a yogurt container, covered it and left my studio. 

So, I made this round face. It was an experiment. I’d never made a face or sculpture like that before, so maybe it was just a new challenge. I had no idea beyond just making a more abstract, round face. 

Flowers again. 

The next morning, I was admiring the 4 sunflowers I’d bought at TJ’s that week. Later that day, the face became a Sunflower. Then a ladybug came to rest on the clay. 

Again, no planning, no drawing, no decision. It just happened. 

It was fun. 

Then another flower face or face flower appeared. And more ladybugs. 

My mind shouted: what are you doing? And why? 

I truly don’t know. And maybe I’m not meant to know. 

Maybe there is no why. There’s only what.

Maybe somewhere inside me there was a need. 

After all the doctors and drugs and surgery and pain.

Maybe it’s time for me to trust my body. 

And like a flower: Bloom.  

Making and Baking

 

Today, I got to do two things I really love to do. Make a blueberry peach crisp and bake some clay. With the weather cloudy and cool with a slight breeze, it’s a perfect day to do both. Just the smell of the peaches and blueberries in the oven makes me smile. 

And it gives me something to create while I kiln sit. 

Firing clay. 

I realized today it’s been almost 6 months since I’ve fired up the kiln. It seems like a long time but when you’re working with clay, patience is a key element. Pushing or rushing clay means cracks and broken pieces. I’ll admit I’m not the most patient person in the world but waiting has its rewards with clay. 

Loading the kiln is always a puzzle to solve. Since I make such different pieces, fitting them into the kiln takes a while to figure out. But again, it’s worth it in the end. 

Peachy goodness. 

I love the delicious bounty of peaches and blueberries in the summer. Last weekend, my husband and I made the trek to the local Farmer’s market to buy peaches from our favorite local farm. And while they were not ripe yet, I knew in a few days they would be perfect for baking. 

I’m one of those bakers who never makes a recipe exactly the same each time. This time I used old fashioned rolled oats, not instant and added a little orange juice. I like to experiment with texture and flavors like I experiment with clay. But not at the same time, of course. 

Making and baking

New clay creations firing 

Fresh peaches and blueberries cooking

Adding color to new creatures

All creating delicious fun

To do or not to do

 

This is the question going through my mind lately. With life changes and health issues, I’ve had a lot to absorb and process these days. One of the main things I’m thinking about is my art and how it’s changed over the years. My first gallery show was in 2000, where I showed masks sculpted out of window screening. Yup, the kind of screening you buy at the home improvement store. 

From there, I made and showed screening or clay masks in boxes that contained a copper repose landscape and a story that tied all the pieces together. Some were free standing and some hung on the wall. 

A gift that changed my art and life.

During an open studio years ago, a very sweet couple came to see my art. They had bought one of my copper masks and spotted some of my clay sculptures. Wondering why they hadn’t seen these in the gallery, I told them I only had a few because without a kiln, I was only able to get the pieces fired by a kind art teacher. They then offered me their kiln and insisted I take the wheel they had, too. 

That led to a few years of clay classes where I learned to throw and glaze. And after that, throwing became my biggest focus. I threw and showed and sold mostly functional pieces: mugs, bowls and vases. A few sculptural pieces snuck in but not a lot.  

Now what?

That’s the question I’ve been asking myself a lot these days. With all the life and health changes throwing just doesn’t feel the same. I still love clay, so I did what I could physically do, making some lily vases, leaves and small sculptures. 

When my small sculptures sold well last year, I saw it as a sign to make more. I did. I made a lot more. But what I found out is that making more doesn’t mean selling more. Even though I did sell almost all of my birds(made in 2020) and polar bears(made in 2023), I had a hard time making more. It just didn’t feel the same to ‘remake’ my work as it did to make a new idea in clay. I know this may sound weird, but I struggled with copying myself. 

Perhaps, production work just doesn’t work for me. My art has certainly evolved over the years, I worried about that, too. I think that’s why I wanted to produce more to prove I could and to sell more. 

To do or not to do, what do I do? 

To force myself into the studio to copy myself isn’t working. 

Maybe that’s the problem: production instead of creating.

Making more didn’t lead to more sales.  

Maybe, just maybe less is more. 

Moving Forward

 

  

One step at a time, I’m moving forward into this New Year and this new life. I’m feeling better. I’m eating and enjoying food for the first time in months.  My energy is returning. And the clouds are lifting from my body, mind and soul. Here’s the weird thing: I didn’t even realize how many clouds were hanging in, over and around me. I just thought it was the stress of change and everyday life. 

I was wrong. I was physically sick. I didn’t know it. When I finally got medical coverage, and started to think something might be wrong, I didn’t know what to do or where to go. The medical coverage was a difficult and confusing labyrinth requiring calls to a 1-800 number for pre-approval and the info given was conflicting and confusing. 

Bottom line: I had to wait too long to see a doctor. During the wait, my condition got worse. I’m very grateful to the urgent care doctors, surgeon and nurses. And I’ve very grateful to be well now. 

Picking up the pieces. 

The work in my studio had to sit for many months. There are pieces that were thrown and slab built during the summer and fall. Again, thinking I lacked motivation when I was really ill, they sat on the shelves. 

Now that I’ve recovered and my energy is back, I’ve been happily busy in the studio. New leaf plates got some color, too. Three new Lily Vases got underglazed in red. 

And I had fun painting three new polar bears and a cat. Next on the agenda is a bisque firing. Finally!

Moving with my heart and my hearts. 

I’m grateful to be packing up some heart themed pieces to take and sell at a local gallery. I loved making these heart mugs, teacups, wine cups and candle holders. And I’m hoping they bring color and love into other people’s lives. 

I’m so grateful to have more energy, appetite and strength. 

The grey fog that seemed to hang over me is gone. 

I feel renewed and ready to move forward. 

Putting my heart into my work and life.

Just in time for Valentine’s Day.