Wet clay slipped through my fingers and my palms were covered with that sticky earthly material. I was completely focused and immersed in what seemed like a very intimate exchange between man and clay. With a mind of its own, clay helped mold my understanding and appreciation of living in the moment. My mind and senses fully engaged in the craft of pottery, it felt like I held time in my hands, gently and in control, making sure that I valued what I had in hand.
A few years ago, my wife and I enrolled in a basic pottery class at the local community college. Honestly, it was her idea to spend her evenings pursuing a new creative interest. I reluctantly agreed to tag along as I though it would help get my mind off the stresses of the day while also functioning as her preferred chauffeur. I had no idea what I was getting into.
Jazz music playing in the background welcomed us as we entered the classroom for the first time. This relaxed ambience mirrored the calm and artistic disposition of the instructor, an elderly man who paired his vocation with his passion for pottery. This aligned very well with my motivation to relax in class.
I quickly found that clay was interestingly human in nature in many ways – predictable and unpredictable at the same time, stubborn, moody, flexible, soft, responsive and of course, very slippery. I was attracted to clay by its sheer enigma. I had to understand clay while trying to communicate what my expectations of it were. I guess we were off to a rocky start but with good mutual intentions for the long term!
It was wonderful to learn that I could wind coils of clay to bring a piece of pottery to life – a simple container for small household items. I was the creator and ideas were flowing! I made a flat round bottom then made coils and placed them around the base. As I added more coils, I started to increase the radius of the container such that it became progressively wider. I carved the surface of the coils with a sharp tool to create simple vertical lines. I fancied bisque as the color for my container. Instead of applying the bisque glaze uniformly over the container, I applied wide and slanted lines of yellow and blue in such a manner that intervening portions of bisque were not touched by the brush. Channeling my creative abilities through clay was blissfully divine!
Clay and man got along quite well, for the most part. Add too much water and clay would swoon. Add too less, and clay would turn a cold shoulder. When I thought we were in step, clay would change its mind unceremoniously. These mysterious ways of clay kept me fully engaged as I was losing myself in the craft and totally loving it.
The rest of the world was on hold for four hours every week for twelve weeks when I was imbued in a state of bliss and deep meditation with clay. I started to look forward to each class to continue the dialog of creation and expression. Clay and I went on to manifest a whole lot of beautiful ideas. I submitted myself fully to the cosmic material as being the teacher of focus, living in the present and touching one’s deepest levels of bliss. The regularities and irregularities of clay also taught me the lesson of “wabi-sabi”, the acceptance of transience and imperfection in life.
With a mind of its own, clay helped mold my understanding and appreciation of living in the moment. With my mind and senses fully engaged in the craft of pottery and devoid of distractions, it felt like I held time in my hands, gently and in control, making sure that I valued what I had in hand.
I learned how to hold time in my hands, with clay or anything else!
(Below) Here’s to give you a sense of what my wife and I created in a few weeks 🙂
(Above) Tools of the trade, self-critique, evaluation, learnings and experiences….
My Journey Of Gratitude 