I've been thinking a lot about my artistic growth. I have watched my work morph into something with a remarkable power of its own. I sit at my wheel and my work largely feels to make itself now. I am realizing the reward of endless searching for "my work." Each person approaches creation in a different way. Because of its very nature clay depends on our touch. Each person then will create something different just by the nature of their touch. There is a beautiful codependency between a potter and their clay. I have been spent the last few years trying to understand my relationship with clay, learning how to make my mark.
Making work that I am happy with is no longer the painful strain it once was. While I've been working with clay almost daily for the past six years I have only recently realized I can breath in my work. I am comfortable with clay and my design choices. Time in the studio now has a calming effect on me. Before, not so much. I was frantic, frustrated and always discouraged about something. And, with the oh so many ways to fail with pottery from start to finish, the word always is meant very, very literally.
If I managed to throw a piece I was happy with a series of terrible things were guaranteed to happen somewhere between that short moment of contentment and the final glaze firing. While I still have these issues- daily- it is now a much smaller percentage of the pots I begin. Progress. And that is the point of this post; Acknowledging our efforts and taking a step back to see the progress which always happens with the passing of time and dedicated practice. Commit to yourself and the work you make. Only then can you approach your work with the prospect of growth.
While working I frequently take a step back to analyze my pottery. I pay attention to both the attributes that are working, and those glaringly hard to ignore parts that are definitely not. I pull in the acceptance of my successes. Equally I pull in the acceptance of my shortcomings. Accepting and even embracing these shortcomings has transformed my work.
I had an art teacher tell me once, "Don't try to cover up your mistakes in art, you'll just draw more attention to it. People will know you were ashamed of your work and tried, unsuccessfully to hide it. Instead find a way to celebrate it. Draw even more attention and make sure people see the mistake. Turn it into something beautiful. Make sure they know you meant it." This has stayed with me. I carry this into the studio everyday. It may sound a little contradictory, but there is something very true and powerful in those words. A healthy acceptance of imperfection, and a way to turn those flaws into celebrated attributes of your art.
As artists our work is imperfect. These imperfections are our individual markings. My work is has grown into a series of organic forms, bright colors and unglazed porcelain. These are my favorite qualities about the work I make. And guess what? Each of these qualities has grown from my weaknesses.
I can throw a perfectly symmetrical pot, thanks to the even speed and spinning of my pottery wheel and a patient touch. I can, as in I have the ability to. I think this is important to mention. Laziness and lack of skill is not a valid excuse for making work of "celebrated mistakes." It is important to learn your craft, and to know the rules before breaking them. There should always be a desire to learn more about your art. Celebrating your mistakes is about finding your greatest resources for learning and individualizing your work.
All my pots begin round, that is part of my working process using a pottery wheel. For years I watched as these pots became off-round, unintentionally off-round. Picking up a piece that was too wet, my hands would dent the round bowl. I would try to hide it, but could never completely reshape it. I throw really thin, and the uneven, licking flames of the gas kilns at school would subtly push my pots off center during their firings. This was very frustrating for me. Until I realized one day that there was a beauty to this work that I was not full exploring. My method changed. Instead of trying to "fix" the pot, I tried to use my hands to express the individual personality of that piece. I pushed, pulled and altered until what would have been poorly hidden mistakes became instead carefully executed, soft, organic forms. I am pleased with my work. I still make mistakes constantly, but with each accident I see now an opportunity to grow.
Artistic growth is all about acknowledging our efforts and our imperfections, and learning equally from both.
Take a minute to acknowledge your successes. Next, ask yourself: What is the biggest weakness in my work? Now find a way to turn this into something beautiful, personal and celebrated. I guarantee you will be able to watch your work improve as you slowly accept your own imperfect mark.
