Marta
‘We have to believe that a creative being lives within ourselves, whether we like it or not, and that we must get out of its way, for it will not give us peace until we do.’
— Mary Caroline Richards[1]
I’ve long been drawn to ceramics and pottery from Spain and other places, both for its artistic beauty and functional reasons. And I have always appreciated and tried to support the arts more broadly, but that wasn’t my profession and I’ve never considered myself to be talented in that space.
In a yoga class many years ago, I was struck by when the instructor paraphrased a quote by poet and potter M.C. Richards, using the metaphor of centering clay on a wheel for centering our own lives. Life’s twists and turns continued on, however, and so learning ceramics as an adult remained relegated to the ‘maybe later’ list. Meanwhile, though I had always hoped for a partner and a family of my own and assumed my turn would come one day….it never did.
When what was supposed to be a quick checkup turned into an emergency hysterectomy some years back,those hopes evaporated for good and forced me to come to terms with a very, very different life than the one I envisioned for myself when I was younger. I needed to face the feelings of grief, loss, and failure of single childless grief head-on. It was incredibly hard, and I felt very alone until it got to an untenable point, and on a winter’s evening I dove headfirst into Living the Life Unexpected by Jody Day. One of the many pieces of wisdom that stuck was the definition of creativity as “…the power to make something in the world that wouldn’t have existed unless you’d been alive…”[2] instead of purely centered around one’s extensive artistic or literary talent, which was my prior understanding.
So last fall, as a small step towards ‘Plan B,’ I finally decided it was time to stop procrastinating, nix the excuses, embrace the present as it was, and do what I’d long wanted to learn. A quick search found a studio not far from home that offered adults-only wheel and hand-building clay classes at a reasonable price, and so I signed up. Far from the blissful meditative experience I’d imagined, it was – and still is – quite hard! But I still loved it. The light, airy, comfortable studio was welcoming. People were friendly but, to my relief, didn’t ask inquisitive questions, as they too were focused on projects.During class, I could get out of my head and focus on the task at hand, using my body to center the clay….and ultimately, create something.
We started with bowls and cylinders. When the wheel would sometimes get frustrating, I could turn to hand-building techniques that allowed for additional design and the creation of more functional items – like planters, napkin-holders, and mugs. Quietly observing other students’ work proved a useful learning tool, too.
My favorite part thus far has been experimenting with different glazes, textures, and designs; I’ve struggled with pulling walls and trimming and have at times turned to YouTube for additional guidance.But just being in that space during 2.5 hours each week has been a blessing, and has made my own life a tiny bit more centered during these very chaotic times.
There is a still a bit of a path to walk on this Plan B healing journey, but turning to a new, creative, venture has proven so very helpful in making peace with things as they are. While my small bowls won’t be up for sale in Madrid souvenir shops anytime soon, if ever, I can appreciate the form and function, and not only honor the fact that I finally was able to do something I had wanted to try for many years…but also create something with purpose.
