The Haystack School of Life

I spent the last week in a magical wonderland called the Haystack School. Basically it was Berry College picked up, placed on Deer Isle, Maine (where else would you put the campus with 12 deer per student) with a pimped out pottery studio. I would awake with the sunrise, dress for a day of making pots, and work diligently in our beautiful studio, breaking for yummy meals and inspiring faculty lectures.

I went with a list of things to learn. How to perfect by skills.  How to avoid time costly mistakes. How to improve. Basic, type A personality goals such as that.

When I asked our teacher, Sarah, about how to achieve thinner, more consistent walls and use all the excess clay in the bottom of my pot her response was honest but different than I expected. It's fine, she said. My walls do that too. Just trim off the extra later, the integrity of the pot isn't diminished by a few spots that are thinner than others.

And then as she worked, gorgeous as her pots were, they were not perfect either. A bit heavy here, a wobbly form on a occasion, a cracking handle there. But it was ok. I felt a new freedom knowing that my rigid views of structure and steps could be relaxed and melt away. Sarah did focus on functionality. She focused on making pots that were generous, would hold plenty of soup for a family, would offer comfort as you hold it on your hands and were wrapped in lovely designs. There was no criticism this week. Students of all backgrounds and skill levels marveled in her ease with problem solving, encouraging and simply loving working with other potters. Humble, talented, hardworking and happy to share anything and everything she knew with her students. What a wonderful way to model your career and teach others about it.


The first couple of days I was a bit in shock. All of a sudden I was back in my college days. Beautiful days I thought I had said goodbye to long ago- for forever. Yet here they were again complete with an ocean, 100 other people pursing solely artistic endeavors, and 20 potters, many pursuing clay as their form of feeding their families, and we were to all spend the week together.

I needed these role models- these companions as much as I need rest and food. The road of an artist can be a lonely one. Especially when working in our private home studios, we pay the price of solidarity and seclusion. It's easy to think you are an anomaly. And in a negative sense. Especially after having a slow month or having to redo orders one, two, three times because it just won't come out right. But I learned so much from these potters about the value in being steadfast, hardworking and believing in yourself. Giving yourself credit, and loving what you do. I do love what I do. Sometimes a person just needs a little validation. A little nod that says, good work, keep it up.

So, I returned home from my trip with lots of tips and tricks that can be applied in the studio. But, most importantly, I feel free. Free to be who I am, to work hard and love my job without being so focused on perfection and flawlessness. I can focus on good work, improving my forms and focusing my attention.

And to feed my type-A side (and to remind me of what I learned), here are some items that I identified as things I will focus on:

Me and some of my pots

1. Series- making groups of pots, 6 at a time, 12 at a time, to help improve my forms. As our teacher said, if you repeat a form the 20th will certainly be better than the first.

2. Trimming- pots needs a little extra clay in the base for support when they are being thrown. Especially for soft clays.  Taking time for trimming, and other finishing touches like handles, carving, slip, etc. are so important and rewarding.

3. Slip Trailing- I just adore slip trailing and will continue to explore how I can work this technique into my pots.

4. Glazing- Take enough time for it. And wear gloves.

5. Meaningful work- Do what means something to you. You can also make the things that are in demand at shows, online, etc, but make sure to take the time to make things you love, if only because you love them.

That's what feeds an artists soul and keeps us going.

Much Love,

Lisa

The view from the main deck to the ocean. A classic image of Haystack.