Clay Things: The Beginning

I began making clay things when I was 5, under the direction of a lovely woman named Mrs. Sweet, who I’d met through the Bartlesville Art Association in Oklahoma. She was what I would now call an “old hippie-lady”, but was likely not much older than I am now. She was a kind woman who took me under her wing and encouraged me to create without judgment. She dressed in flowy skirts and wore big chunky jewelry (it was the 1970’s). I still fondly remember her house and property, though I think I was only there once or twice. Lots of wood, macrame, clay, and weavings as well as paintings by fellow artists and friends hung, sat, and were displayed all around the property. I was touched to discover that my dad had saved my first handmade plate (!) and when he passed away it came back to me. I keep it in the studio now, to remind me of her, and what came first, and to remind me to play, and not judge myself so harshly. It’s such a hard habit to break!

Well after that first plate it was another 13 years before I made any clay things again. My high school didn’t have any medium specific art classes, and so college, I now realize, was mostly catch-up for me in a good number of making subjects. I took a semester of handbuilding (I had hoped to learn to throw on the wheel) at the University of Kansas and turned out a lot of really ugly stuff that didn’t stick around very long. I am happy to say the internet didn’t yet exist, so no incriminating evidence of that class does either!

My next foray into clay came a few years later, when I transferred to Webster University in St. Louis, Missouri. Once again, I missed out on learning wheel throwing – it seemed to only be taught every other semester. I tried to learn it somewhat on my own using the available kick wheel, but really only managed to make a mess and never even succeeded at centering the clay. I gave up and went back to handbuilding, first trying my hand at sculptural teapots, then moving on to more pod, seed, and nest imagery. I experimented with handmade paperclay, which wasn’t yet available commercially, and felt more comfortable the more I made but never felt it was “my medium”.

More on “adventures in clay” in my next post.