Unpacking

So, I moved back East in 2022 with plans to quickly ramp back up with a home studio. I forgot how much cross-country moves take out of you—and your pockets.

I still have lofty plans for the basement space. It’s huge and can accommodate all the shelving, kilns, sinks, and materials you use from start to finish. However, how I want to configure the space has changed repeatedly. That and the expenses of settling into this delightful new space have made me slow down and really be thoughtful about my next steps—specifically, what I “want” versus what I truly require.

The temptation with an ample space is to…fill it. And if you are a potter, you know how quickly you can amass tools to serve any purpose. I moved across the country with boxes and boxes of tools and equipment, much more than I realized I had collected over my 16+ years in Austin.

Unpacking all those items reaffirmed for me how much we hold onto. We wait for use cases and scenarios where items will come in handy - making a grand assumption that the scenario will actually occur. Things gather dust and rust, and we keep on accumulating. Maybe it’s because we’re trying to be everything…all the time. Maybe it’s because filling a space makes us think we are closer to filling ourselves.

Source: instagram.com/iamsibbotery

I created a temporary space where I could warm up my throwing muscles and get back in the rhythm with clay. It’s a large, windowed pantry where I popped up a couple of shelving units, a makeshift wedging table, and, of course, my wheel.

As an interim (and much smaller space), I needed to consider what tools I brought up from the basement. That process made me realize that the core family of tools I use is pretty simple, regardless of the form I’m making. This is not to say other tools don’t come in handy at different transition phases, from thrown form through glaze firing. Dozens of tools go in and out of the process of making. But for throwing, I continue to be amazed at how few tools I use regularly.

It’s almost becoming a challenge to see how few tools I have to achieve my desired result.

So I am making, waking sleeping muscle memories, and finding new skills. Production will be small-batch for now while I work out temporary solutions for glazing and standing up a new shop (!!). More on that to come.

Spring/Summer Update...

This May, I will say goodbye to Texas.

Fifteen years ago, I moved to Austin from Philadelphia. My reasons for the migration were deeply flawed, but I had to learn some painful lessons on my path to becoming a wiser, more discerning, and confident human being. For those lessons, I am deeply grateful.

I don't write much anymore (at least not here), but I have alluded to the ways pottery came to me in the few posts I've shared. And so it is with creative journeys; they often begin at the intersection of grief and self-discovery. And so, the medium of clay became healing, transformative, and empowering. I will forever remain indebted to the beautiful clay community I have found in the lone star state.

I'm not leaving clay. But I am leaving behind the loving studio where so many of my friends filter in and out weekly. I am leaving behind a truly unique studio home where you can learn, teach and have some of the most memorable conversations and creative moments. These friends and memories will remain with me and serve as loving reminders of how far I have come in expressing my creativity and embracing personal growth.

What's next? Moving back to the East coast. Reuniting with my beloved Fall and Winter moments, cherished friends and family. Re-establishing roots. Making a new home and building a new home studio. Finding additional potter pals to add to my growing network. Taking the last whispers of the baggage I carried here and blowing it away like dandelion pappus on the warm spring breeze.

Life is full and rich and complete. So I hope you'll come along for the next chapter. It will be quiet on Etsy for a bit while I reset. I hope to get the kilns fired up just as trees transition to gold, orange and red. This summer will include a lot of unpacking, building and planning. If you're into that sort of stuff, stay connected on Instagram.

Wish me luck!

COVID Crazy

By nature, I am a procrastinator.

Procrastination became a bad habit that began in college writing term papers. I found that I often was genuinely concise and creative when my back was against the wall and my head filled with the sound of a ticking clock. I began to assume that to be at my best I had to be under pressure. They say it takes 21 days or so to make a bad habit, right? Well, I suppose mine has been practiced religiously for over 20 years.

I bought a home a few years ago and shortly after I moved in, I began sketching out my idea for a home studio. I plotted out what I needed, the resources I would require, everything. Then I set those plans on a shelf in my office where they are sitting right now - staring a hole in the back of my head.

I didn’t feel a sense of urgency. Renting studio space in Austin with all the comforts I need has made it easy to forget my home studio priorities. And every weekend, after an exhausting week, I would head to my studio to purify my spirit and mind with the best kind of meditation for me - clay. Six to eight hours on Saturday and Sunday has been my prescription for sanity as long as I can remember. I took it for granted, feeling no sense of urgency. And then COVID happened.

It’s been about four weeks since my last visit to a place I’ve called my weekend haven for over a decade. The workweek keeps me busy and distracted. But Saturday morning, when I feel the first light of the day fall across my forehead, the ache begins. The longing for something I need that I cannot have. And in those moments between asleep and awake, I feel the urgency I should have had when I first began building out my home studio plans.

Perhaps this will be enough to teach me a lesson. Maybe when this pandemic goes to an eventual end, I will remember these moments and prioritize the things that truly matter. There’s work still left for sale on Etsy, and I’ll be uploading some additional items this weekend. If you’ve shopped, I appreciate you - and hope my work brings you some peace during the madness.

Whatever you are missing most during this crisis, may you find your way back to it soon - healthy, safe and sound.

-Be Well