Friday, March 9, 2012

Uncomfortable Procedures, Dogtown, Friends, and Fears

This morning I went up to Rochester for a "procedure", which as I imagine Dave Barry might say, involves feeling unfomfortable while it happens and more uncomfortable talking about it afterwards. Gotta love "procedures". 

Luckily I had company, thanks to my friend Carol. Giving up her day off to drive alongside me, keeping my mind occupied as we drove the two hours each way to Rochester and back. 

After my visit to the doctor, we had a wonderful lunch with our mutual friend, Sabra. Talking about clay and glazes with Carol and Sabra was the perfect way to shake off the uncomfortable aspect of my morning.... all the while, chowing down on Dogtown dogs with gusto!

We went next door to Genesee Pottery and checked out the latest exhibit of woodfired and salt fired pots from two Alfred grads. Wonderful work. Made me think about woodfiring and soda firing. Along with that came all sorts of memories of stuff I never got to try, things I wanted to push a little more, ideas that just never made it to fruition. I always assumed there would be plenty of time.

It made me start thinking about what I might have done differently if I had known that I wouldn't be making pots forever. More than once on Clayart, Tony Clennell has opined about how potters only have so many pots in their hands. We'll only make just so many pots before we are done, and we never know that number.  Would I have made the same pots if I had known that I wouldn't ever be able to make more after my surgery? 

The two images I included in this post are ones that came home from galleries where they had been held on consignment since 2009. It is kind of strange to wake up and find your not-so-ancient history staring at you across the table. On some level, I assumed all these pots were gone. Having them back is odd. I am not sure whether to sell them, save them, give them away or smash them. Invariably, everyone wants me to give them away... which begs the question about the perceived value this work actually holds. Seeing as how there wont be more pots in years to come, what do you think I should do with this tiny pile of pots?


  1. keep them for awhile and somewhere and somehow you will know how to let them go.
    Now is not the time.

  2. Meredith, you always seem to say the right thing and just the right time. Thank you.

  3. you are welcome- sometimes you need someone who is outside your life to step in.
    I know- there are folks who do that for me.
    It sure helps when you are too close to know what to do.
    I hope that all goes well for you.

  4. Justin and I are always willing to buy pots. If you want to part with anything, let us know.