Leaning into Life

If you’ve been reading my blog, you’ll know that life has thrown the unexpected my way. Again. It’s been time filled with grief and anxiety. Yet, even with all the changes and bureaucratic nightmares, there are moments of fun and peace. 

Right now, I’m writing by the window. Looking out at a sunny day with a slight cool breeze lifting me up. 

Fun with mud. 

This week, I got out my clay and played. I rolled and stamped. I slipped and joined. I cut new shapes with tiny cookie cutters. Voila! New flower fairies or are they flower angels? I’m not sure yet. That’s ok. What really matters is I had my hands in mud. And it was fun.

The next day, I threw some more mud. I wedged up some porcelain, sat down at my wheel and threw a few bowls. The most wonderful thing about it: I didn’t think. I didn’t worry. I didn’t have any expectations. I just slapped that clay down and the next thing I knew I had 2 bowls. When finished one will be bowl for baby Madden, like the ones I made for Meyer and Cieran. 

Life is a roller coaster. 

I’ve said this before, I know. But it’s so true. What’s also true, I hate roller coasters! And I think we’d all agree, with Covid, supply chain issues, global weather disasters and layoffs, we want off this roller coaster! Now. 

But, it doesn’t work that way, does it? 

So what can you do? Hang on and lean in. 

I’ve been hanging on with books and walks and clay. I’ve been leaning in with family and friends and furry four footers. I’m only a few weeks away from having my medical coverage, so I can lean out a little into the world, soon. 

I don’t know what is going to happen next. 

And that’s a little scary, especially after the last 3 years.

But I’m going to try something new,

Leaning in to life.  

And hoping for good things. 

Hello February!

 

Wow, you’re here already! Even though the groundhog saw his shadow, meaning six more weeks of winter, I see small signs of spring. Little buds and more green are popping out. The birds are flying around and calling to each other. I know I might be overly optimistic but I’ve decided to enjoy it anyway. 

And remember, enjoy is my word of the year. What are you seeing that you enjoy? It might be a nice hot cup of tea while you look out the window at a chilly blue sky. 

Cooking clay. 

One of the most important parts of working in ceramics is kiln firing. I’d like to say, I enjoy it but I’d be lying. It’s stressful for me. I worry about loading each piece correctly. Firing the kiln for the right amount of time. The waiting and not knowing is hard. 

What do I enjoy? All the bright colors popping out. Feeling the clay change from wet to dry, heavy to light. Seeing new pieces stand on their own almost finished. 

Especially seeing new experiments come to life. 

Throwing things. 

There are many ways to work in clay. I love slab building and throwing. I started out doing slab building because I’d failed at wheel throwing. But I faced my failure and fears and now I love to throw things. 

 

I throw teacups, bowls and mugs. But it’s been hard to get back in the groove since our flooded home restoration. 

And today’s throwing day was more about getting my area set up again. Getting my chair in the right place. Fixing my floor props for my feet and pedal. I was frustrated. But once my hands were in that wet clay, it all went away. I really enjoyed throwing bowls. I don’t know why but bowls are my favorite. 

Enjoy Today.

Believe me, I know life is not always sunny. Just like the clouds change outside my window, so does life. As I get older, I want to see more, create more and love more. How do I do that? How do you do that? I think the answer is simple. 

Enjoy. 

Right now, this minute. 

Breathe it in. Sip it in. 

Or throw some clay. 

Whatever it is, enjoy your day. 

Wheel Keep On Turning

 

It was time. Ok, beyond time actually, still I hesitated. Was it in the right place? What kind of adjustments would be needed? Would it still work? Most important, would I remember how to work on it? 

I used to love throwing, but would I still love it after almost a year away? If you read my blog, you’ll know about the trials over the last year. Let’s just say, it’s hard to create when your home is torn apart, your studio is a storage space and your wheel is covered to protect it from construction debris. 

Thankfully, reconstruction is done. 

Studio time.  

I headed back to my clay with a notebook full of new ideas. Small sculptures. Luminaires. I collected new leaves at the park. Still, it took some time and patience to get the joy of clay back into my life again. 

Slab building was my first clay love and I still love it. Rolling out clay with music playing in the background is wonderful. Trying out new forms and figures was a challenge, too. Sometimes what I draw doesn’t look the same in clay as it does on paper. 

But sometimes, if I don’t fight it, I find my way to something else instead. Something new and unexpectedly joyful. 

Facing the wheel at last. 

My wheel sat silent and still for a year. There was dust, debris and bugs. The clay I had left out in the garage was hard and spotted with mold. I’ll admit, I just had a hard time getting out there. But the boxes were gone. The debris was cleared. My wheel area was set up and clean. 

It was time. I opened a new bag of clay, cut a few chunks and settled at the wheel. Would I remember how to throw? Would I just make a mess? I decided it didn’t matter, if I made anything at all. What mattered was sitting down and putting my hands in the clay. 

Sigh. It was everything I remembered about throwing. Cool clay turning into a warm round mound. Pushing and pulling and smoothing and coaxing the blob into a bowl. Or two. 

But here’s the biggest reasons for my wheel to keep on turning. 

The wheel helps me:

Sit in one place. 

Use my hands instead of my head. 

Center myself from imbalanced to balanced. 

And feel anxiety replaced by peace. 

Studio Joy

 

Hello August! I can’t believe you’re here, already. Time, they say, flys when you’re having fun and I believe it’s true. In the last week or so, days have flown by leaving me wondering: what did I do? Where did the time go? 

When time becomes timeless like that, some call it being in the zone. You’re moving naturally through the day. You’re doing without doing. You’re being in the moment and when that moment’s gone, you move on to the next. It all just happens seamlessly. 

Flow and mud and heat. 

When I moved back home in May, I had two shelves of work to bisque, glaze and fire. I couldn’t do it then, obviously, because I had 150+ boxes to unpack and a lot of reorganization to do. I managed to get the bisque firing done but again, they sat. Finally, the garage was cleared too. 

I did my first glaze of new pieces in a year! I’ll admit, I was nervous because I hadn’t been able to glaze or fire anything in 14 months. What had been automatic set up, glazing and clean up, now felt weird and new. But I dove in, got it all set up and was amazed at how fast time flew by. My soft, mud wonderful clay was now colorful ceramic bowls, plates and teacups. 

Polishing and final touches. 

I didn’t know or appreciate until I started making my own pieces, just how many steps over many days and months it takes to produce finished bowls and cups and vases. 

I know it took me longer because of my situation, obviously. But even so, there are many, many stages to taking clay and turning it into a bowl or cup. I’m not complaining, I love the process. And while I worry while my pieces fire, I’m always grateful when I open the kiln. 

This time felt like Christmas morning. I’ve been waiting for a whole year and to see my bowls and cups bright and shiny was pure joy.