Now, for some of you this might seem strange that this is an anomaly for me. "Nell, you're a potter", you might say. "This is what you do- throw pots". But the difference with today is that I had no plan. I had no person in my mind that I was creating something for, no sketches in my sketch book, I didn't even weigh out the balls of clay to see if they were all the same size or not. Nope...today I sat down with a big block of clay in front of me and one by one I just played.
Little ones, big ones, round ones, straight ones. I just kept going, letting the clay do the talking with my hands and giving my brain a long needed rest. Some fell flat, a few were really beautiful...and rest were single opportunities to look at something I have done for so long, and do it a little differently. Needless to say, this hour and a half was bliss.
Why do we forget these things in life that make us so happy? Or better yet, I should say why do I? As I move around and explore, I slowly add onto my pallet of what makes me smile from the inside out. These new things are exciting and therefore always thrusted into the front of the line when I need a fix of instant joy. Since I've moved to Nashville I've picked up some new colors as the leaders of my pallet (forgive the metaphors, I'm obviously feeling very artsy today). Practicing my fiddle tune of the week, going on solo hikes, painting every kind of bird I can think of, and running have been the most prominent. And the entire time, my beautiful and beloved potter's wheel has been sitting in the corner of my dinning room; just like a book of poems that I adore, but can't seem to approach without too much weight from the past.
So today, I conquered it and yet again with a perfectly odd and lucky number. 13 beautiful little pots sit in my studio. Drying and solidifying the life they will live, the coffee they may hold, and the hands that they will warm. I tried to take a picture but my camera battery was dead. No worries though, photos to come. After all, they have made it to the front of the line... on my trek into spring.