Over the past two weeks or so, I have been approaching the page and just not feeling the words stumbling out. I keep a list of topics to blog about in my phone while I walk along and ponder day to day. I have been continuing to list the things that you might like to know and what you might find interesting. I keep the list of things that I feel need to come out of me and out into the world….observations, life stories, finding newness and yet when I come to the computer to write, I have been finding other ways to distract myself.
As I shared in my weekly email to those subscribed, there have been some things happening in life that keep my mind occupied and have needed to take up space rather than getting them down.
But last night, I went to my third pottery class. I have written about this class before in week 1. Last night, we learned how to trim and to make handles if we wanted to cultivate our creations into cups with handles. Trimming can be intricate work. You take the piece that you threw and you start to really mold it into what it will be. You had an idea before but now it might either fulfill that idea or become something totally different. Our instructor gave us some best tips and told us the basics on how we should do it. He taught us how he likes to trim and make handles and then he freed us to do our work. This is an interesting time in the class because we are all four inexperienced and really don’t know what we are doing. Normally we kind of tentatively wade into whatever we might be doing. Is this how to do it? Do we do this first? second? What next?
Two out of four of us are very precise and perfectionistic. They happen to be German also. Perhaps this could be said to be a typical German trait. I have met some other Germans here too but stereotypically these two women fall right into line with their stereotype of doing things perfectly. They set to work making sure all is precise. The other woman is British and she wants one perfect cup. She has said so many times and the other pieces could be different. She has taken hand building so has some experience with clay.
I started in on my piece, asking the same questions and looking at examples. But then our instructor said to me, “that piece will be difficult but you could do all sorts of things with it.” I looked up and said, “I can do anything because it is whatever I make it to be! I can make this piece into anything.” And it hit me. I am the artist with my own pieces. There aren’t really any rules per se. Sure, I want to know the technique but if I want my pieces to swirl or carved or with a rim or not…I get to do whatever I want to do with them. His job is to make sure I have the information and the resource and my job is to create.
I went to work. All four of us got really into it. We zoned in on a level our instructor said he had never seen with beginners.
I lost track of time. So did the others. And in a peaceful few hours we just became creative together.
This is it. I thought. This is what I was missing. The centering. The space just to create. The encouragement and the newness along with embodying this creativity in a way that playing in the dirt only can produce.
So here I am, dear reader, returning to the page, the creative space with quite a list of things to write for you in the days to come. Any and all encouragement is welcome. 🙂