Potter Thoughts

My pottery collection comes from local artists; local to Tennessee that is. Maybe one day I will branch out to other areas but for now there are too many local artisans to adore and support so I will keep my collection local.

I have one very interesting and completely rare piece in my collection. I know what you’re thinking because I thought it myself. Duh! - each piece of pottery is rare; there are none two alike. But mine is especially rare because I threw it on the pottery wheel.

Threw it - that’s shop talk meaning that I spun a lump of clay on a pottery wheel and made it into a bowl. I got my hands dirty. I don’t profess to know all the steps of pottery making but I do know this…it was one of the most pleasurable things I have ever done and I cannot wait to do it again.

Hunched over a potter’s wheel that held a lump of clay and looking around at all the tools sitting beside me: the pedal, the sponge, a water bowl, scrapers, calipers, glazing brushes, and other things I knew nothing of, I quickly realized I had a lot to learn and a short time to get there. In a two-hour session, I was expected to create a functional piece of pottery, minus the drying and the firing. Those steps were carried out by my instructor.

Pottery fascinates me. Initially I thought I adored it because of its beauty and functionality. Those are very good reasons to love pottery but upon further reflection, I believe I love it because of its uniqueness. When I hold a piece of pottery, I cannot help but think of the muddy hands that created it. Who made it? What were they thinking as they shaped and molded it? Can they spot their flaws?

When I hold my bowl, I reflect on the same. It was mid pandemic and the whole world was upside down when I sat at the potter’s wheel. My emotions were a bit unsettled too and this pottery making gave me resolve and peace.

There I was playing and making a beautiful mess. Laughing. Careless. Thoughtless. Free to let my creative ideas seep into each fiber of mud. To say I experienced some serenity is an understatement. I experienced a whole truckload of serenity. Like back the truck up serenity. And dump serenity at my front door, without knocking first – stacked up and overflowing. Even when my bowl didn’t turn out to be the Picasso of pottery I had hoped it would be, I still adored it. Flaws and all, y’all.

Early potters didn’t concern themselves with looks so much as functionality. Pottery is one of the oldest human inventions, dating back to 18,000 BC according to Wikipedia. Pottery has been found in nearly every civilization. It makes sense to me. They needed vessels to hold water, make food, amid other things. They made their pieces to serve functionality first. Then they got fancy with designs and stuff, which is interesting in and of itself.

It’s not pottery until it’s been heated.

The heat is what makes this clay durable and withstand time. Firing is a process. At a certain temperature, the clay and the glaze will mature. Sounds like I am retelling the story of my life. There have been some fiery moments that caused me to grow up, to learn, to mature. You too, right?

I can’t but think about the parable in the Bible; Jesus being the potter and me being the clay. He continues to mold me, make me, and stand with my in the moments of fire. The fire makes me stronger and He, being the skilled potter, knows it will not consume me. He wants me to live a life of purpose and one that charts a meaningful path for the generations ahead of me. Isaiah 64:8 Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.

As for the bowl I made, I am sure it won’t be the last one and I am sure it won’t be the best one I make. But I am sure that it will be around for a long time, even if in pieces, and I hope it serves a purpose for a long time. I don’t know when my time is up here on Earth but like that pottery bowl, I hope my legacy sticks around and serves a purpose for a long time.

Who knows but maybe one day my bowl will be in the loving hands of someone who has the same potter thoughts. Who made this? When was it made? What purpose did it serve? And then I hope they repurpose it and care for it until the next set of loving hands holds it.

One (or two...three) final thought before I go...I encourage you to go play in the mud. Pottery businesses are few around this area so it may be that you have to drive a bit to get there. But perhaps you are in an area rich with this type of artistry. And if so, consider yourself lucky. None the less, go. Participate. You will thank me later. Leave something for the future generations.

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