Grace and Plenty

I wanted to play FF today, but just have been too busy to sit down.
However, look what came out of the kiln this week. (picture with Iphone, so not a great photo) It's a largish platter that would be good to serve a small turkey on or roast beef. But since I don't eat meat...hmmmm....cookies?

what I learn from clay....

I learn to be free and not afraid to go deep...
I learn respect....
I learn that the best creative time comes when I settle in, ask questions, wonder, and appreciate the process even more than the product....
I learn that my work is my work, and that in itself, is pretty cool.
I learn about me...
and about the One who created me...
I learn about my connection to the One...
and I am grateful.
amen.

stay-CATION #2

so...today I did just whatever the heck I wanted. no schedule, no anything. I walked the dogs for a lovely long walk on the river...and prayed to just be aware...of the trees waving, the butterflies in the wild flowers, the dogs taking their time to leave doggie post cards on whatever bush, tree, post, fence they wanted...I breathed in and breathed out and so grateful to be alive. and intentional about loving the moment.

then I exercised. damn. why don't I do that more? I really love it.

and then hung out in my studio....carving tiles, checking out what I did before....here is a pic of my studio in the cellar.


it is good space. I am lucky to have it. I spent 4 glorious hours there today. here are a couple of the tiles I made. I am new to tiles, so I am not sure how they will turn out, but basically it is clay rolled out, cut, and then I painted teal blue slip on it, and then carved away the images. Then they will be bisqued, and then I will add a glaze to them. Don't know how much of the images will be preserved, but I can't wait to see!

Terra Cotta carved bowl

 

 

 

 

This is a bowl from the spring. I shaped it over a form, and then carved it. It is my first hand-built bowl. It was really hard for me to do, because throwing is so much faster, and in carving/handbuilding, you have to think about so many different things, and it never gets the balanced, centered look of a thrown pot. Which is fine, of course. I learned from this bowl that when carving/decorating, you have to keep looking at it from different angles, and especially the angle from which it will eventually rest. You can tell I carved this upside down, and forgot to flip it back and forth. The funky flowers are more easily viewed upside down! The low fire glazes are painted on...and because they are low fire, they can be bright. I like the turquoise and the blues; the dark background of the bowl I am not thrilled with, but in all, it was an interesting process for me.

bowl

 

 

 

This is a bowl I made earlier this summer, and it is the first time I have used the hi-fire reduction glazes in this studio. It is granny smith over a matte white, which you can see made the whole bowl sort of a greeny yellow. My camera isn't good enough to catch the streaks, but I am pleased with the shape, weight, volume of the bowl, and the look of the yummy reduction glazes. There is more depth to them rather than in a regular electric kiln. I haven't had much time for this class I am in now, but everytime I go, I sink back into the clay. I really need to do a better job of focusing on my style (and getting the focus right on the camera!) and taking the time to create. It is such healing, restoring, nurturing, growing, spiritual work for me, my hands deep in clay...

my soul restored

Today I spent much of the day at pottery class and in the studio. I continually am amazed at how time flies when I am working with clay, and how much I love being in the company of other clayartists. It is such a wonderful community...and when I am there, whether it is cleaning up my muddy workspace, testing glaze combinations, trying to save a wobbly pot, or wishing I could do something better or know more details about something else, the studio experience always refreshes my heart and clears my mind and fills my soul.
Today, I made two bowls. One a five pounder, and the other a six pounder. I confess, though, that I am tired of bowls and am going to throw some nice mugs and tumblers in terracotta so that I can try my hand at maiolica or majolica There seems to be a disagreement as to whether it is the same thing, or different. My current pottery teacher says it is different technique, but I am not so sure. I think it has to do with the country. In any case, I am going to try it!

today.

Today, and yesterday, and the day before,
I trolled every corner of the web for any possibility of a job in which I have remote transferable skills. I have to say, if any one is looking for a job in this area, I would be a good contact because I pretty much have a working knowledge of all the openings at area colleges/universities, non-profit organizations, and schools, both independent and public. I write a pretty mean cover letter, too...but I realize that for me, I am competing in an amazingly competitive market on paper, anyway. If I could just get an interview, then....I think I might do all right.

I also am trying to ready the basement for my own studio. It is a mess down there! The floor is as old as the house and never been treated (so, let's see, it is 96 years old. goodness. ) I am not going to waste alot of effort...I am going to slap some paint on the floor, on the walls to brighten it up, put a clay trap on the sink, and start throwing. I have a class that starts in September...I wish I could take two, but until I get a job, I need to be happy with one, since it is EXPENSIVE here.

In the basement, there was a place in the cement that had been worn thru to the ground. I don't know if that is bad or not, but I decided to spackle it with some ready made cement. It occurred to me that I didn't really know what I was doing, but I just needed to jump in. It doesn't look great, and I think I need another "coat." But at least I am doing it, you know? If I waited to learn every detail, I still wouldn't know what I was doing til I did it, and I can't wait for the money for a pro to come and do it...and it seems to me much of life is like this. We just....do the best we can, in spite of not really knowing what we are doing. There is no secret handbook to life...except that we just need to live it...mistakes and all, misgivings and all, hopes and dreams and dissappointments and all.....

liminal space

It's funny how life keeps turning, turning, re-turning to explore the same ways to grow. For me, a continual life learning is how to fully be in the threshold, in liminal space, in transition...both on the inside and on the outside. This originally started as a blog about clay...and I know that I will get back to that. But...in January, I started a low residency doctoral program in pastoral counseling, which frankly, I didn't enjoy much, but it was a means to an end. I also audited my pottery class, which still took me to the studio a gajillion miles away, (o.k., 130 miles, round trip) a few times a week, but I couldn't keep up with the work...because I was writing papers for my classes. In any case....my dear love got a great new position, and ....now we find ourselves living in the NORTHEAST! I have left my congregation, left my studio, and a month into this move, I have made a gajillion contacts (o.k., a lot, because it certainly isn't 130!) and sent out numerous resumes. I dropped the doctoral program (there are some I can get into closer to home) and now I wait. I wait for interviews, phone calls, rejects, anything. This is really hard. To just get up in the morning, search for work, (oh, there are NO opportunities in my denomination at this point in time for congregational work) and do a few errands....I know every aisle in Target and Home Depot....I walk the dogs, watch AMC (yeah, the soap)....

I know that there is meaning in this move, and that a fabulous opportunity is yet to discover me, and I it... I know that the ONE who created all of this mess that is me will nudge me towards it..I need to remember how to listen.... In the midst of all this noisy waiting silence, I have to learn to listen.

And how great to be in a BLUE state....ahhh.

And pots, well, I long to get back to that...next week I start a class at my new studio, which is barely a shadow of what we had in NC, but hey, it will have to do. so there. just the inbetween time is hard.

So...I pray. And wait. And try to hear what I am listening for.

joy is peace and peace is joy

Author Anne Lamott writes that her pastor Veronica says that "peace is joy at rest, and joy is peace on its feet." (Plan B, p. 7) I haven't heard peace and joy described this way before, but I get it. It is how I feel when I am throwing, glazing, or recycling clay.....I feel peace as the wheel spins in front of me, and I become one with the clay, as we shape together a bowl or plate, and joy is the activity bubbling around, the hum of the wheel and the radio blasting, my body working and aching and the voices of the studio busy in creation around me. It is active, and peaceful...a wonderful connected yin yang circle of fullness.

midterm creation tiles 

Pottery Chops

I have been so busy lately getting my pottery chops that there has been little time to write. After 60 cylinders, 50 mugs, 20 lidded forms, and now on to thirty bowls, there isn't as much time to reflect through a keyboard. However, there is an abundance of time to reflect, wonder, think as the wheel spins and my body attempts to connect to the clay in an act of co-creation. The practise is good. Practise will serve me well, creating a body memory of being with the clay, learning how to work with it...so that soon, if I keep up the practise, I will be able to play more in the clay...as we are comfortable with each other. It is a dance, I think....getting these pottery chops...a lesson in improvisation, in being in tune, in getting the nuances. I listened to an interview with Joshua Bell on NPR one day, and they were talking about a piece of music that he has played thousands of times (something by Mozart, but I don't remember which piece.) He said that each time he played it, even though he knew it inside and out, on top and underneath, the act of playing that familiar piece revealed a fresh nuance about his playing, or his violin, or even the piece of music itself. I had a professor once, who gave the exact same lectures year after year, from the same yellow legal pad paper that she painstakingly wrote out in perfect cursive lettering. I heard some of these lectures twice and three times, in different settings, not to mention reading them in her publications. They were, and still are, captivating for the listener--because her work was groundbreaking in feminist hermaneutics and biblical interpretation. But what about for her? I wondered, did she get bored? I asked her about this. She peered at me through her owlish tortoise shell glasses with the ever slightest smile, and said, "Each time I give a lecture, it is like the first time I ever give it. " Nothing boring there. Nothing boring in throwing a million mugs, either. Each time I sit down with a lump of clay, I never really know how it will unfold into being exactly...but as I practise, I feel that I am getting more and more accomplished at the art of improvisation and craft and contribute as much to the clay as it gives back to me.

artists and pastors

I haven't had much time to write lately, as I have been busy with my work. Did I mention that I am a clergy person? The fall is a busy time in the life of a congregation, and encouraging the renewal of programming at this time of year is a monumental and satisfying and frustrating task. In any case. In my functional pottery class, we have been reading a book called ART AND FEAR. The authors of this text argue for that artists are unique in the world because they pour their being into something they have created, and the world around them can reject that creation or embrace it. In other words, no other work besides an artist's (whether that art is visual or musical or .....) is loaded with oneself. Therefore, the artist, in what she offers to the world is exceptionally vulnerable, and needs to discover inner strength and resolve and esteem no matter how her art is received. This is an interesting thought to me, because I really don't think this phenomenon is singular to the work of an artist. Or perhaps, more people are artists than we know. For example, my ministry as pastor is fraught with my being...I offer myself to a congregation, to a work, to a sermon, a project, and it is out there, to be received or rejected by a group of people. Especially this is true for a sermon, or a specific ritual action. The sermon offered, hopefully is inspired by wisdom from the universe, God, the Holy, (whatever you want to call it....but again, aren't their muses for artists? ) but the fact is, the sermon is a work from my heart, my creativity, my connections to people and to the Divine, and if people are mad at you because you didn't tell them about Bessie's upcoming surgery, or didn't include them on the birthday list, or whatever, they can and do and will reject your ability to create a sermon, a word that might offer some hope or healing. (wow, that's a run on sentence for you!) I guess what I am trying to say is that yes, making art is risky (according to Art and Fear) and so are other "works" as well.

waterzen 

growing 

noticing rhythm

In design class on Tuesday, we explored rhythm in visual art. When we were looking at art and sculpture in books, some of sort of "sang" the rhythm of the work: "Well, it looks like bah-bah-bah-dah-swhooww!" I have been looking the past two days, for rhythm...on the highway, at home, in the movement of my poodles dancing and kittens purring and in the soft melody of an understanding gaze of a friend during a time of discomfort. "Noticing rhythm..." commented our design instructor, "is a nice way to be in the world." Indeed, the world has a heartbeat, and songs to sing and wail, screech and slide. I want to hear that music, and I want to notice it, see it, and wonder about it as I create my own song and beat in this little corner of the world.

learning from my work

...We discussed today how "creating" is countercultural, because for artists, the process of creating work is as productive and informative and deepening as the final product. In our schools, we focus on product, the grade, the end of year test, the ability to advance to the next grade level--the end performance is key. But, in making art, the "works" are the guide (Art and Fear). "The lessons you are meant to learn are in your work" (Art and Fear, p. 26). IF this is true, as a beginning potter, I need to get busy and do some work, because I have much to learn. So, I am off, to get busy, learn some lessons, and be countercultural.

seductive materials

Today, I elected not to travel to class, which in essence, is a three hour commute both ways. This was a hard choice for me, but one I needed to make. It seems like there will be an issue about gas supply in the Southeast, due to Hurricane Katrina, and since I have made the trip three times this week, I felt like I might should do my part to lessen the impact of my ecological footprint--which is already three times the size it should be. Sigh. Selfishly, I wonder what impact this energy situation will make on my ability to learn about clay and design. I worry, and then I feel guilty because the suffering from this disaster is catastrophic, wrenching, and devastating. It is stunning and breaking. And, even though I know that we need to continue to live the regularity of our daily lives as we usually do, in spite of feeling 'survivor guilt', this is a conundrum. We need to live the dailiness with awareness, thoughtfulness, compassion and generousity. But, there is more for me. I wonder, how does action, solidarity, justice, connect with making art? Especially when one is a middle aged part-time student, and nearly full time professional? Is it frivolous to want to burn a quarter tank of gasoline so that I can learn to throw two pounds of clay into 6"-8" high cylinders, over and over and over--with no clear direction or goal of the outcome? The materials of art, according to the book, Art and Fear, are seductive. The tooth of good paper, the glide of an delicious pastel, the bristles of the perfect brush. Clay, for me, is seductive. It calls to me, flirts with me, sings sonnets that circle in my head and heart, beckoning my hands to dig deep, practise, learn, create. Justice and mercy, practice and seduction. This is the tension I hold in my body today.

"don't get precious with it"

In design class, we have to do collage sketches on certain concepts. This week we explored "balance." Sketches. Not works of art. Sketches--nothing special, just a way to learn the concepts with our hands and a material. This has been hard for me, choosing shapes, colors, thinking about composition...and then someone in class said, about her own process, how she told herself, "don't get precious with it." Meaning, don't worry yourself over this, don't get overly involved in this, just do it....I love this phrasing, and I am trying to use it as my mantra as I learn to turn clay, to practise with construction paper, and any number of things in life. This is practise, like piano scales. Don't get precious with the things that aren't precious.

unsettling balance

Today in design we explored balance in two dimensional design. We looked at artbooks from the met and moma, and talked about what kind of balance and symetry and unbalance each painting had. with modern art, this is difficult to discern...and one painting by Mark Rothko was especially intriguing for us. We concluded that it was balanced, but still was unsettling in the way that it made you think, ponder, wonder. perhaps it had deep balance. What was striking to learn, for me, is that balance doesn't necessarily mean that something is calm, meditative, boring, perfect, easy to grasp, or dull. Balance can be strong, complex, have depth and wonder, challenge and possibility. This is an important lesson for me...that balance in my creative, spiritual well doesn't have to be nice, peaceful, expected. There can be energy, surprise, and strength that is grounded and challenged by the unexpected. It is something I want to wrestle with more....

tolerate uncertainty

On Thursdays, in class, we pause. We pause to check in, to see where everyone (all four of us) is on the page--or should I say, in the clay. Then, we talk a little bit about a book we are reading, and then write. The book is called Art and Fear and the topic is control. A perfect time for community, reflection, connection, and space. Pausing....taking a moment...to remember our breath, to let it fill our bodies, down to our toes and fingers and back and bellies to be nourished by its presence....and exhaling.... only to breath in again. My friend Ellin says that it is important to remember that the one thing we have in common with everyone around us is that we all breathe the same air....we all need to breathe. It is essential, obviously, for life. But the action of breathing mindfully is vital, as well. We need to remember to pause so that the stuff of our lives don't suffocate us. We need to breathe so that we can rest in the tangle of life and wonder, marvel, at it all. We need to breathe to remember there is space around us, and that one step at a time, the journey will inform us. The most risky thing God did, according to Barbara Brown Taylor (amazing teacher, writer, Episcopalian priest) is breathe life into the forms created from the earth of the ground. Ruach--the breath of God. Indeed this breath life within us sings to us to create as well. And so we do...we become risk-takers, creators, leaving a little bit of ourselves in everything we make, every cylinder, every bowl, every mug...and we don't know where those creations will end up. Part of the risk, then....letting go...and being able to tolerate uncertainty.......