It’s said nothing is quick in ceramics. It is indeed a lesson in patience. I’ve learned to grow, stretch myself.
How can I describe the feeling of seeing something in my head, have it manifest physically through various techniques that have been so generously shared with me, dry, make it through the bisque fire, choosing the best glazes to achieve the affect I want, and then fire it to over 2100 degrees Fahrenheit, well past literal red hot. The moment when a potter opens the kiln and sees the physical manifestation of a design, a daydream, the fleeting kernel of an idea is beyond description. It’s what keeps so many of us going back for more.
Patience was always one of the ingredients lacking in my life. I always wanted everything now. That need for immediacy helped me hone many skills. For instance, I can whip up a pretty decent meal very quickly…I was even an oyster bar chef…pouring drinks and serving up seafood delicacies in front of a packed bar. My husband and I did art shows for many years selling my GourdFolk. Setting up a show is another exercise in speediness. You often need to drive to a new city, find your booth, set up a welcoming attractive storefront in just a few hours, then calmly meet and greet customers, and after it’s over break it all down as quickly as you can to get home to your waiting bed. Anyway, as usual, I’m beginning to ramble.
Working with ceramics has taught me so much. Like a good meal, life needs a balance of salty and sweet. The patience ceramics has taught me is my sweet.