Learning from the inside out.
I’ve often wondered how different my path would have been if I hadn’t learned everything from the inside out. I didn’t know, nor did I try to find out, if other people were trying to learn to make pots. For me, this was a personal, internal journey.
I was looking inside me, into my heart and into my head. I was discovering who I was as much or more than I was discovering how to work in clay.
After I made the little teapot and announced I was a potter, I rented an old warehouse, and we built 10 homemade wheels and set them up along the wall. I don’t know why but I had it in my head that a pottery studio needed multiple wheels and space for tables and shelves. It turned out that in many ways I was completely right.
I followed my instinct and as it turned out it was the first step of the path I would take. It was a glimpse into my future and what I would come to believe was and is my purpose. There would be many other moments when I would trust and go on instinct.
After moving without thought from one thing to the next, I started trying to direct my learning. I had only been able to make pots that were 3 inches high and a little lopsided. I was thrilled with them, but I was beginning to know that there was so much more to learn.
I went to the studio every day, even on holidays. I was as happy as I had ever been. Working every day gave me strength and renewed me. I realized almost immediately that doing something you love nurtures and helps to sustain you. Working 12 or 16 hours left me happy, tired certainly but never drained. The clay filled me with wonder and possibilities.
Once a long time ago a friend said to me “learning is not a passive activity”, that phrase began to haunt me. I would come into the studio and get up on the wheel and close my eyes and ask for guidance. I began to actively learn. I was searching for answers not just moving along the edge of the stream. I would breathe, relax, and open myself to discovery. I wanted to connect to the long line of potters that had come before me, and I began to learn from the pot I had just made and the expectation of the next. I would set my pots out on the table and look, evaluate and critique.
I had never seen a handmade pot. I grew up with my mother’s fine China and everyday dishes she collected that could easily be replaced. The Corning ware and Pyrex bowls worked well. They weren’t precious but they were well designed, served their function and gave pleasure.
I was not looking for a standard of excellence in clay. I just wanted to make pots and use them. I never thought about the maker, I was completely intrigued by the process.
I’ve thought about this so many times over the years. I don’t understand all the complexities of our minds, but perhaps it doesn’t matter. It seemed like I had my own personal tutor on my shoulder and while nothing was magic and I didn’t learn to make big, centered pots right off the bat, I began to make substantial progress.
The one thing I know for certain and a lesson I try to share with my students is that technique happens. If you go to the studio every day, if you put your hands in clay every day, if you give yourself a chance, technique comes. It is true that 10,000 hours of work makes you master your skills. It isn’t everything but it is technique and that makes all other things possible. You don’t need 10,000 hours to get proficient, you just need to consistently do the work.
Like every other potter I know, I looked for the magic tool, that magic bit of information that would make me a better potter. That secret a skilled potter has that will lead us to be a master potter long before we have gained the skills or wisdom. Those secrets were never clear to me but searching for them did help me become a better potter. Keep in mind, I was spending time alone in the studio every day. Trying a new tool was an exciting and inspiring thing that made me get up early, go back to the studio and begin again.
It didn’t happen overnight or even over the first few years, but I came to understand I wasn’t discovering how to work in clay or even how to express myself through art, I was discovering a way of being.
There are skills to master and each success leads to the realization that there is so much more to learn. This is true in life as well as in the studio. It would take many years before I realized that all the skills, I had were just the beginning. Finding out who we are and what we want to share with the world and maybe even what we don’t want to share with the world is the real journey.