Why I’m In Love With Clay?

I love clay! Is that weird? It’s such a simple substance, but you can turn it into so many beautiful things. And the process…I love the process from beginning to end. From slamming it down on the table repeatedly to prepare the clay for the wheel (yes, it’s a great stress releaser if needed!), to anchoring my arms so that the wheel will produce a perfect circle, to trimming and watching pieces fly off, to the anticipation of peeking into the kiln to see how everything turned out.

I love that clay is pliable, workable, and easy to fix mistakes. I mean, have you ever tried to carve wood or stone? I have and it is beyond frustrating for me!

I love that a pottery studio is supposed to be messy! Ah, that’s the best! My mom frowns upon this behavior, and I smirk in sweet rebellion. I love that I get to wipe my muddy hands and tools on my pants. That’s fun to me, a simple pleasure :).

I love the quiet symbolism of clay in its beginnings. It starts out as a lump, gets molded and shaped and sometimes forced to change (ouch, can you relate?). It takes time to dry before its ready to be fired (ever had to wait on something…). It’s not strong until its been in the fire, a testing, so to speak. If impatience causes that clay to be fired too early…the clay is damaged from the heat. Once the clay has waited until the appropriate time to be fired, it is stronger than ever before and is now water tight. It can hold things, it can pour out what has been poured into it. It can share and in its own little way, it can help.

In the clay, the mountains, my family, and in the One who made it all…lie my joys and my hope.

If you’d like to see me and my muddy pants, I’ll be doing pottery demonstrations at the Young Harris Art Festival this weekend.

Mayor’s Park in Young Harris, GA. Aug. 25, 10-5 and Aug. 26, 10-4.

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