It is hard to be excited about the new year when the current state of the world is so overwhelming. While the conflict in Ukraine, Gaza, or Sudan may seem distant, their impact is far-reaching and, with social media, ever-present and visceral. When we think of what the new normal is for our environment, we know that climate change is here and in my province we saw a myriad of catastrophic events this past year alone. It can be hard to feel hopeful. While I may not be able to change the course of global events, I believe that the skilled and soulful work that artisans create in our studios, whether alone or collaboratively, is an act of hope. This coming year, I remain committed to infusing hope into my work by employing more sustainable practices in my studio, such as single firing, educating through my blog and with our provincial guild members, and through the continued waste reduction practices I have been using this past year and in previous years. While these are small offerings, they align with other areas of my life where I am striving for improvement. Beyond my studio, my focus extends to the broader ceramics community and communal knowledge. Potters like Yuliya Malik and Sara Howard have become leaders in sustainability and ceramics. Yuliya, a Ukrainian potter, educator, and writer, just launched a book called Potters Save the World: Learn to make sustainable ceramics and help protect the Earth. Under the constant threat of airstrikes, she has continued educating and testing and has now written and published a book embodying hope for the future of pottery. Her book profiles many potters who have created studios and work focussed on sustainability and protecting the environment. You can find Yuliya here if you want to learn more. A UK ceramicist, Sara Howard, has just released her first line of functional ceramic pieces made from industrial waste. Her commitment to finding a long-term solution to waste has led her to create circular ceramics. Sara’s commitment and determination began as a master’s thesis to a sharable tool for other potters and then an actual product proving that ceramics doesn’t need to create more waste but can reduce waste when made differently. You can find out more about Sara here. In the face of global uncertainty, I find solace and strength in the beacons in my community of practice. It is imperative that collectively, we do not give up on hope and that we share our hope in simple physical acts whether it be gardening or volunteering, using our voice with our elected officials, or donating to organizations who may be spread too thin right now. Is this new year an opportunity for collective growth? I hope so. Do you have any acts of hope planned for 2024? I'd love to hear what they are. Wishing you a year filled with creativity, connection, and the power of hope.
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This past spring, our family travelled to Italy for two weeks, a trip we had planned to do in 2020. The crowds were huge, the city unbelievable, and the views extraordinary. An historic building in Rome, if built in the 1700 or 1800's is considered new. Everywhere you look, perspective, and the wonderful feeling of insignificance and magic in our short lives. We saw Michelangelo's David in Florence after seeing some of his earliest work in Rome. Seeing such skill in such capable hands, one asks, why make anything if it can't be that beautiful? Or how much time must I give to become a master at my craft? It is a daunting question for someone who works with their hands - but a question that should be asked. On our last day in Venice, we went to Murano. We wandered into the most fantastic glass gallery, Murano Art Glassworks, where we took in the brilliant and inspired work of the MASSIMILIANO SCHIAVON Art Team and met the master himself. As I shook his large and rough hand, I had to question again, what am I doing? How can I be better? How can I do better? There are a myriad of ways to contribute to a craft. I am currently figuring out how to contribute to conversations around greener studio practice - but this trip gave me something else. I don't know how to describe it. It's like a tinkling bell far in the distance. It is as though it wants me to do something else. I hope it's in clay...I have an ungainly amount of equipment and tools, a lot of experience, and a love of the medium. And more than that, I have so many new and unique glazes to try and master with single firing. Still, I am listening and trying to feel my way toward that gentle awareness. What is inspiring you? What awes you? If you want to be inspired by glass today, I've linked to the Murano Art Glass site above. I have never really looked forward to the season I may need the most. Leading up to December, I am at my busiest in the studio. I will have had a busy spring, summer and fall, participated in late fall shows, fulfilled orders and will generally be out of steam. As I look at the new year, I often have this feeling of unrealistic expectation, topped off with a pinch of dread. But year after year, I ease back into the studio after a January break, often doing more reading than throwing in February and working on other aspects of my business or learning something else that can be applied to my practice. In some respects, I am hibernating and doing the work in my head that sets the tone for the remainder of the year. And while this is happening, I am outside examining the winter garden, walking in the woods or on a beach. I am looking for colours and patterns, appreciating the beauty and simple lines of our stark landscape. If you have a practice that allows you to slow down, winter seems to be the right time to do it. It is a luxurious period of darkness with some stunningly bright days to remind us that spring will be here soon, and then, it all picks up again. But until those bright, bird song mornings return, we can read a bit longer, go to bed a bit earlier, wear our comfiest sweaters, or have a fire. We can watch the stars and see our breath and always be on the search for light, whether twinkling in the sky or glittering on a beach when it's -15 outside. It’s winter that is the time for new beginnings, for restoration, and for learning new things. I am only just beginning to understand its role in my creative life. What is winter for in your world? And suddenly, it's fall. I am writing this after the glory of fall has passed though. The richest colours have faded and the trees are hanging on to the last of their leaves which are crimson or golden or brown. We're even into daylight savings, so the sun has started to dip by 4 and it's dark by 5 or 5:30. We are expecting a storm this weekend so it will take what is left with it. All I want is stew, or chili, or soup at this time of year. I am all about the comfort food and as I typed this I got an idea of what I am making for dinner tonight - soup and scones. In the studio this past summer I was finally able to get work out the door again to two of the shops/galleries that carry Urn Song Pottery. But I am still behind. So behind. However, I did decide to participate in the first Craft Nova Scotia Designer Craft Show, since covid began, and I was invited to participate in a pop-up in Lunenburg, NS soon after that show finishes. Once these two shows are over I have promised myself to spend a week reading my recipe books and trying at least 5 new recipes that can become keepers for the winter. In the garden, the greenhouse is housing mostly annuals and herbs this winter. The cold frames are up and are still housing carrots and some flowers that I didn't want to part with just yet. Frost has yet to take out the brussel sprouts and broccoli and so I am optimistic that I can harvest a bit more. My winter work is already laid out for me, since I am still behind. But I also have studio goals for the new year as well. I will begin testing single firing methods and figuring out if any of my current clay bodies and glazes are compatible for this process. I have also been thinking of a new line to create. But winter, like spring and summer, can zoom by if I don't set my intentions and goals early and then organize myself accordingly. Not exactly one of my super powers. Yesterday I learned something new about my website. I learned that people were signing up for my newsletter and I wasn't being notified. I fixed that and I have a list and I now receive the notifications when someone new signs up. Sorry about not sending out a monthly newsletter yet, but I didn't know that anyone wanted to read one. But now I know who you are and I will create one just for you. I have a bit more work to do in the studio today as I get ready for my last or second last firing before next week's show, and then it's off to make scones to go with the soup. Oh, and if you are looking for an inspiring book to read, I wholeheartedly recommend this one: We are the Ark, by Mary Reynolds. This book is about rewilding and building ARKs (Acts of restorative kindness) all over the world so we can increase biodiversity and restore habitats for all of the wild critters out there. It's a movement and we can all start with whatever area we have be it balcony, windowsill, or yard. It's become a big project of mine and I'll write more about it later. If you have any comfort food recipes you'd like to share, feel free to email or add them to the comments. When I was younger, I used to take Spring for granted. I was too busy to notice the early bulbs coming up, appreciate the dandelions, or recognize the increase in bird songs. I was all about summer, then fall, and only needed three seasons. But as I get older, I have fallen in love with Spring. I have fallen in love with the smell, sounds, and various shades of vibrant greens of hairy, waxy or fuzzy leaves. Winter starves me for colour, and then the anticipation of the first signs of Spring fills me with optimism and a yearning for anything bright. Natalie Goldberg once wrote: "The Great Spring. Together my students and I had witnessed the tip of the moment that green longed for itself again." After the hot weekend we had here in Nova Scotia, the plants and trees finally gave way to green's longing. The bluejays' nests built in our tall pines will get the much-needed privacy from the nearby oak, and there will be a reprieve from the sun in the trees' shade now. I can't be sure what the connection between potters and gardens is. Still, many potters I know have a garden, and some are just phenomenal. Paula's studio garden was lovely when I apprenticed in Chester in the '90s. In the busyness of a production studio, the quietness of her peaceful garden was a place to sit, dream, or contemplate. Back at that time, Julien's bakery would be wafting out aromas of freshly baked bread or chocolate, and Wanda would chat with us through the bakery window. Paula's home garden is divine. And it has inspired me time and again to build a vision for a space and then make it happen. When I visited Harlan House's studio in Lonsdale, Ontario, I was struck once again at the commitment to gardening and creating a special space for wildlife and a place to just sit and be. And yet, like pottery, it is another hand built labour of love. As I try to balance my slow return to my studio practice, my days are split between the studio and the garden. It is a delicate balance. This morning it is raining and very foggy in Halifax. But the super-saturated hues of the morning garden leave me feeling thankful. Thankful for mentors who inspire. I am grateful for my spouse, who built the greenhouse with me during a weekend of nonstop rain. And who did not bury me in the greenhouse after noticing that the raised bed inside could fit me? (The project may have taken a dark turn the more wet and tired I got.) Thankful for my clients, who are patient with my slow delivery times. Thankful to my physiotherapist, who works with me every week to help me stay in the studio. It is just as Shunryu Suzuki said, to live is enough. I have often commented that pottery is not a green process. There are things that potters can do to decrease their footprint, but it wasn't until I came across Mud Matters, with Dr. Wendy Gers that I began to see a sliver of light around the notion of green ceramics. Since that first glimpse last winter, I began to research sustainable ceramics, green studios and the notion of circular economies. I learned that there was a Green Task Force through NCECA, though I wasn't exactly sure where I fit in to this way of thinking. I knew that I wanted to change how I was doing things in my own studio and to be as green as possible, but my road map was unclear. Soon after, Dr. Gers founded Clean Green Ceramics and as I continued to access those resources and read what other ceramicists were doing I started to feel ready for the next step in my own studio. In the fall of 2021 I began the assessment process through Clean Green ceramics. The process was not arduous at all, but it does require a really in depth look at what we are doing in our studios that impacts the environment. More importantly, the process includes action plans and goals for improving all of our processes to achieve a greener outcome. I am happy to say that today I received my certification. I think that the biggest challenge for me, as a maker, these past years was that I was adding to a world full of things and I needed to be certain that I was creating responsibly and with intention. It is an interesting process to not only consider your work in the hands of your clients but to go one step further and consider what your work brings to a landfill, once discarded. As I continue to work on my own action plan, I'll let you know what I am doing in my studio to make clean green ceramics. In December I returned to my studio, in earnest, but the Morning Sunshine yellow that I had obsessively painted on the walls in 2019 somehow became painful to look at. It didn't help that I had left my studio in a state of upheaval and hadn't been in it, so as not to make my rehab even worse with the constant reminder of what I was missing. But when you leave a mess, it's harder to miss. I fretted over which colour would be the perfect choice in my 14x18 space. Should it be white, a light airy colour, or should it be a grounding colour, but with a calming effect? What needed to stay and what needed to go? How could I bring calm back into my work space that had become largely chaotic after a big project and multiple back to back orders, the remnants of which littered the studio like a storm that had blown through. I settled on my favourite colour - grey. I look at grey sweaters and think "I need you." I look at grey skies and love all of the moody monochromatic shades. I always came back to grey. "The best color in the whole world is the one that looks good on you." Coco Chanel The bigger task, after the painting (compliments to my father on a great job), became what to keep and what to relocate and what to give away. After a week of sorting and thinning (and tackling my dried out pug mill), I revealed my studio in its quiet, clean, organized and inspirational glory. I realized that after being out of my work space for so long that what I needed more than anything else was space in my studio. I also needed outside inspiration from the world of flora and fauna, where I enjoy myself the most. I found the centre print, Wildlife of Nova Scotia Flora through Midnight Oil Prints here in Halifax, NS and the other two prints, Algues and Oceanographie I found online through a company called Orion Wells Prints in Boston, MA.
I've always had a studio since I became a potter, and as I evolve in my work, I realize that my studio also evolves. The studio had been calling to me for weeks. Sometimes it was a gentle come and see how dusty I am, or a bit more hostile, the pugmill has dried out. And I would do my exercises and my hand would still feel weak and my shoulder would feel gravelly…and I would not try to throw, in case I couldn’t. But today it was the clay that drew me there. I had created every list I could from priorities to goals, simple tasks, possible diversions (which I can always come up with)….it was all there. The only thing I didn’t do was try to design a new template for new to do lists (which I should). It is time, my studio said. Unwrap me, chimed the clay. Put on your apron. Turn on your music. Just make something. And so I did. “I believe the body remembers everything that ever happened to it.”
- John F. Barnes, MFR: The Search for Excellence.* I have now been away from the studio for 2+ months and while my rehab is slow, I am beginning to understand why. Apparently, my body has conformed to a lot of the positions I am in when I am throwing at my wheel. Even though I stand, I am often tilted off to the right to examine the profile of the piece while I work on it. Even when I am standing up straight(ish), my shoulders are rotating inward, my head is forward, and my right shoulder, in particular, is forward. Think square watermelon. The occupational therapist who I see twice a week is helping me to retrain my body through daily exercises, repair tissue through laser therapy, and breaking apart dead fascia through mayo fascial release. I have been learning more about fascia and its role in our bodies. If we ignore this system, this support system for all of our organs and muscles and tendons, for pretty much everything, that these blockages or adhesions will create restrictions in other areas of the body. So while my OT is sometimes working below a rib on my back, I can still feel connections through to my little finger on the hand that is giving me problems. “The fascia forms the largest system in the body as it is the system that touches all the other systems." - James L. Oschman, PhD* I’m not the first potter to experience this of course, and like anything in life you often hear experiences of people in any industry discussing some of the possible long term effects of repetitive work and how it wears and tears on our body. I came across an interesting article in Studio Potter about health and sustainability in pottery. You can read it here. As I go through this process I have to think about the future and my return to the studio. I have to resolve what that is going to look like. What will I do before I enter the studio? What will I do after a throwing session? What will my warm up stretches and cooling stretches look like? Yes, it's more work, but it's something to look forward to. *I read these quotes in the lobby of my physiotherapy clinic. They are gentle reminders, a way of saying, we’ve got work to do. This is going to take some time. This past week was a big week in my studio and surrounding area (that I had taken over) as the 21 boxes of vases were taped up and delivered to their new home at The Muir in downtown Halifax. I have written about this production experience before and how challenging, yet rewarding, it was. But I have to say there was a really nice feeling of closure to deliver them to their final destination this week.
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Sheri White,
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