It was not the pots I ever imagined crafting when I first decided to make pottery my path, but apparently it is par for my course. Even when starting out as an apprentice, I was commisioned to sculpt a pot for a woman who planned to use it for her own ashes.
This summer I found myself making two sacred vessels for members of my family. It was a painful experience to sit with my thoughts while maintaining focus with my hands. There was a sense of action though, of being able to do something tangible to help deal with the sorrow. It felt satisfying to have a purpose.
With the first, I wanted to convey my desire to wrap my arms around the pot. I wanted to have my love and need to protect become part of the piece. I sculpted my hands on the vessel. Throughout the throwing process, I couldn't help but feel that all of my efforts in learning this skill were for this one moment. I had a gift to offer.
With the first, I wanted to convey my desire to wrap my arms around the pot. I wanted to have my love and need to protect become part of the piece. I sculpted my hands on the vessel. Throughout the throwing process, I couldn't help but feel that all of my efforts in learning this skill were for this one moment. I had a gift to offer.
The second vessel was harder. I wanted it to be perfect. That pressure caused me to tighten up, and so I needed to sit at the wheel all morning before I had one I was comfortable using. I wanted to add a touch of nature to this one; give it personality. I tried many ideas out in my mind, but people are complex and conveying who they are with one motif becomes an impossible challenge. In the end, I encircled the pot with a pumpkin vine. This one I glazed to give complexity to the pattern and more visual depth. Nothing is perfect, but I did the best I could with what I have. I hope that is enough.
