Life Changes. Again.

 

Three years ago, I had no idea how much life would change. Did you? 

In 2020, my husband went from working downtown to working in an upstairs bedroom. My daughter, son-in-law, baby and two cats moved into the other upstairs bedroom. On any given day, there was someone working or sleeping in every room in the house. 

The next year, my house flooded because of a faulty water valve installation. We had to move into a hotel for 3 months. Our belongings were packed up and put in storage while the entire downstairs was demolished and slowly rebuilt. It took a year to finally get everything completed, unpacked and livable again. 

This year, the change came just as unexpectedly when my husband was laid off from his job of 13 years. Just when we thought everything was normal again, it wasn’t. 

Wheels keep on turning. Anyway. 

After the shock and disbelief, what do you do? What can any of us do? We do the only thing we can do, put one foot in front of the other and keep going. The only way I’ve kept rolling through all this change is clay. Wedging clay is a work out, physically and emotionally. Every time I slapped that clay down, my mood lifted a little.  

Here’s what the slab is turning into: the beginnings of a new landscape idea. 

Clay changes too. 

There are many steps and elements that go into making the clay I use but it comes from the earth we all walk on. It’s just mud, really. But after I wedge it or throw it or roll it or pinch it, it becomes something different. 

A lily vase and luminaires. 

Little dogs. 

A sunset platter. 

Each phase changes the clay.

It goes from mud to something beautiful.  

Just like the phases of our lives, change us. 

Hopefully, we can be like mud, and change into something more beautiful, too. 

Merry Making Again

What do I love most, other than my husband and family, of course? I love making. There is just nothing like putting my mind and heart and hands to work creating something new. And I know, I’m very lucky to find and do work that allows me to use a wide range of skills. 

For the last few months, I’ve worked finishing work, glazing, firing, sanding and cleaning. I’ve worked hard rebuilding my online platforms, editing copy, taking pictures, adding hashtags. Then there was marketing on social media, which can be overwhelming to me. Even as I love seeing, reading and even creating posts for others, doing it for myself is hard work. 

Taking a studio retreat. 

This week, I went back to work in the studio. I opened a new bag of clay and rolled out huge slabs. I wedged and slapped and rolled some more. I cut out new shapes. Stamped new words and hearts and spirals and suns. 

I even made a tile for my grandson, Cieran. When he comes over this week, I’ll help him put his little handprints into the soft clay to make a belated Mother’s Day present for his mom. Like the one I did with his cousin, Meyer, for my son.

Grateful. I’m so grateful. 

All of my loved ones are vaccinated. All of us are well. All of us are stepping our way back out into this covid world. I’d say “post-covid” but we all know, covid is always going to be part of our world now.

I’ve worked very hard to be strong and fight it but it’s time for acceptance. To feel the tears and maybe even, the fears we’ve held back to be strong for others. I’ve felt it all flowing through me this week. I’ve noticed my shoulders lowering and my jaw loosening. 

And I’m so grateful for the love and support of my family, friends and my art customers, in person and virtual on Etsy or Ceramics Showcase. 

Making always makes me better. 

I’ll admit, I felt a little off my studio game at first. And I was surprised when I realized it’s been a few months since I’ve put my hands in new clay. So much of this year is a blur, isn’t it?

So I’ll ask a question: what can you make to make you feel better? 

Because it’s time for us all, to begin again. 

Clearing and Opening Up

Creating creates beauty and, sometimes chaos. But always, it creates mess. Not just the daily studio cleanup kind of messes, where brushes need washing, wedging boards need scraping and the floor around the kiln needs sweeping before another firing. 

I’m talking about clearing out the deep mess that gets pushed into the corners and the bottoms of drawers and the back of closet shelves. Not every bag of clay or glaze works. Not every piece created is wonderful, useful or something to sell. And that’s ok. 

It’s all part of the process. 

A year ago, when the pandemic started, I was given a box of free clay. It had been delivered by mistake and the artist offered it for free. I took it gladly. I made a few nice things with it. 

Hungry Caterpillar birthday favors for my grandson’s first birthday. 

And Peace Dove ornaments. 

But in the end, I realized I just didn’t like the smell or texture of clay. I tried to pass it on again but that didn’t work. So I cleared it out and recycled it. Now I have room for new clay and new glaze. 

This clay that I didn’t like, led me to create a few new little things. It led me to a new experiment: little plates.

 I always thought that plates had to be big to be useful. Dinner, dessert, salad plates or platters. I do love design but I also love function. When I made these little plates, I thought they might be good as teabag holders for my teacups.

What a surprise: these little plates can do a lot! They can hold jewelry, keys, charger jacks, paper clips, candies or nuts, a small candle or soap and yes, a teabag. 

Opening up. 

I’ll admit clearing out isn’t fun or colorful or obviously creative. But facing the messes and mishaps help in the end.

Sometimes things need to go to make room and space to create more work. Sometimes it’s a germ of an idea that needs time to sprout into a different form. Sometimes it’s just something to get you to something better.

Most of the time, it’s an opening waiting for you to go through.