Spotlights and the Un-Comfortable

So I've been having some fun trying lots of new stuff and whatnot. Playin' around. My latest exploration with intaglio glazing led to this little gem which I decided to submit to the Hamilton Potters' Guild's biennial juried exhibition "Glazed Over".

 It was kind of a 'just fucking do it' decision. I don't normally do this sort of thing - it's a little outside of my comfort zone. I dropped my piece off and hoped to forget about it. I even bailed on the jurors comments and had asked someone to pick up my piece should it not be accepted into the show.

Two days later I got a phone message.
"Please attend the opening, your piece has won an award".

My first reaction was an uncomfortable laugh. Followed by confusion, and then sheer panic. This meant I was going to have to get up in front of people. No easy task when one deals with anxiety issues. As my anxiety welled, I tried to figure out what was going on. I won an award! I should be thrilled! And yet I was anxious. Did I even LIKE the piece I submitted? I've been playing and trying new things, but was this piece MINE? Was that MY voice emanating from that plate? Then my thoughts swung to my Bachelor of Arts Degree. I have always been uncomfortable with the institution that my degree was granted from. It has a reputation. And really, given my background, its a wonder I was even accepted into the school in the first place. The entire time I was there, I dealt with feeling like a fraud. I had never taken a high school art class. No workshops outside of school. Nothing. And yet there I was attending one of the most prestigious art schools in the country. No pressure. Ugh.

My husband and I made arrangements to go to the opening. My parents decided to come along, and take us out to dinner beforehand to celebrate. The show itself is wonderful - all kinds of amazing works. And there was my plate (displayed sideways, but hey, what can you do). With my anxiety welling, I hunkered down until award time. And there it was. The Ontario Crafts Council Design Award. In a fog with my heart in my throat I made my way to the front. OK. Smile. Shake hand. Take award. Smile. Race back to the safety of the corner. Ugh. By this time the gallery was packed. Mom took my picture by my plate and I was outta there. Fresh air. Breathe......

A Design award. One of my profs voices kept ringing in my head: "You shouldn't make work. You should just design it." I should have been thrilled but I couldn't shake the uncomfortable knot in my belly.

It's been a few days and I've had a chance to digest everything that has just happened. I tried something new. It was well received. I won a design award! The work that I want to make definitely leans towards design. The kind of work that I am most drawn to leans more towards design. And honestly, I just want to make pretty pots. I want to make pots that people want to use. Every day.

I've been playing. Pushing my work forward. And I won a fucking award, y'all!!! That's pretty fucking cool:)

The Give and Take of it All

I recently had the opportunity to catch up with a classmate of mine from art school. I haven't seen this person in 8 years. She is an incredibly talented potter whose work I really admired while in school. After graduation, she tried her hand at potting full time, but was incredibly frustrated by the lack of financial security, and the long hours needed to make ends meet. After hiding out in teacher's college, she is now teaching at a facility that she loves, has a stable career and a steady paycheck. And yet...

"You know, I'm jealous of you, of what you have..."

What???????!!!!!

Let's just recap what it is I "have".
I work 7 days a week. In fact, I just finished a two year stint where I could count my days off on one hand. I am plagued with financial insecurity; let's face it, I make luxury goods and we're in the biggest global recession of a generation.

"Yes, but you get to make pots all day..."

Sure I get to make pots all day. Dozens and dozens of pots. Every day. And though I've been better lately, I rarely get to make new pots, different pots, or even just pots that explore the creative realms of my brain.

I guess all I'm trying to get at here is that there's a trade off to everything. For those of us who do production work, we DO get to make pots all day, but that comes with a heavy price. I'm stressed. I worry about finances. It's hard to find time for creative play. And while making work all the time can be incredibly rewarding, it can take its toll. There are others who maybe teach pottery classes, so that they don't have to do as much production but that comes with it's own price too. Teaching can be exhausting. It might subsidize the pottery making, but it also takes time away from making your own pottery. Other potters try to balance a part/full time job with a pottery career and that's no small feat either. There's only so many hours in a day, and so much energy that one person has.

So everything comes at a price. The price you are willing to pay for what you want is completely personal. I would never begrudge someone for leaving a studio career to pursue a full time career somewhere else. I can't imagine how difficult a decision like that would be. Nor would I begrudge someone who doesn't pot full time.  While it's flattering that people are envious of what I do, at the same time, I'm not afraid to admit that I'm pretty envious of others who don't have to worry about how their bills are going to be paid next month.

I guess the most important thing is if you REALLY  want to make pots, that you find a way to do it whether it be full time, part time or even sporadically. And don't come down on others who choose to do things differently. It's ALL hard. It all comes with sacrifice.