Last week I was deep in my flow: pinching and smoothing and attaching small rock-like formations to rolled out clay - wedge, pinch, score, smooth, dance a little to my music. Abruptly, my pup let out a woof, alerting me of the neighbor passing by our door. Snapped from my flow, I glanced at the dirty mess of my workspace, feeling an urge to scrub away the earthy mud smeared and speckled across my table, collect the scraps that had fallen and begun to dry on the cowhide below, scrape the dried clay from my tools. I took a slow breath, letting the feeling sit. I padded to the kitchen for a cup of water, and dove back into the mess.
POTTERY IS FOR embracing the mess.
POTTERY IS FOR embracing the mess.
POTTERY IS FOR embracing the mess.
Last week I was deep in my flow: pinching and smoothing and attaching small rock-like formations to rolled out clay - wedge, pinch, score, smooth, dance a little to my music. Abruptly, my pup let out a woof, alerting me of the neighbor passing by our door. Snapped from my flow, I glanced at the dirty mess of my workspace, feeling an urge to scrub away the earthy mud smeared and speckled across my table, collect the scraps that had fallen and begun to dry on the cowhide below, scrape the dried clay from my tools. I took a slow breath, letting the feeling sit. I padded to the kitchen for a cup of water, and dove back into the mess.