Tea Breaks & Clay Days

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We ventured to another time, where people were one with the clay. Entering the classroom was to know that nothing else would exist for seven hours. Just you, your hands and mind wrestling with the clay.

The struggle was real, and it was beautiful.

We made tea when our hands could no longer understand the signals from our weary minds and when the body was too exhausted from spiraling, wedging and throwing the clay.

We’d sit outside on the wooden benches drinking slowly and breathing even slower to try and attempt it once again.

Here we all were, each with a quiet fight all our own.

I grew frustrated.

I cursed at the clay in my mind and thought, ” how do my hands and mind keep missing one another?” Like star crossed lovers never to kiss. So close, yet so far.

And she told us of Japan. Artist in residence for three months, when all she thought every morning as she cast her sheets aside, gazing out to the grey shackled rooftops-“No, I’m not home I’m still in Japan. Way too early to begin to craft something so fragile. So earthly.”

And we all marveled at her stories, and her wisdom. She breathed art, and Arita porcelain and spoke wonders of the ceramist who taught her everything she knew. Now here we all were attempting the very same craft that takes two years to master in Japan. Naively attempting to do it all in just two weeks.

I felt broken each morning.

Not wanting to get up. The silica had taken its toll on my back, hands, fingers and forearms.

“Not again.” I thought. But the beauty in the struggle was too wonderful. I had to beat it. I had to make something. I had to keep creating. Fighting to do at least something. Anything. My hands grew desperate. Only finding solace in her words…

“Art is a process not only a thing.”

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And thats the crux of it isn’t it? As artists in the Western world we are defined by the number of pieces we create. By a finished product.

Yet, here was something so pure, so true, so innocent setting me free.

“Art is a process not only a thing.”

There’s beauty in learning. There’s beauty in the struggle. Growth as artists only happens as you learn new things. Taking different snippets of the various arts there are and mixing them all together to become an entity,  an aura all your own.

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Yes, I was impatient. But I learned not only from the clay but from the many talented colleagues around me. Colleagues that taught me patiently different aspects of creating, so patiently as I was on the verge of tears.

We humbly made tea for one another, and fed one another.  Each afternoon we’d all take a break and listen to each others stories and our instructors oracles of Japan. Of the grey roof tops, the beauty of community, China on the Park and breakdowns at Narita airport.

We sipped our tea, immersed in the clay on our shoes. Growing more as artists-if I dare call myself one-and cheering one another on, even when our pieces were warping into other worldly things.

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My hands will not be the same after this class, my muscles, my creative process, my mind.

There’s an honesty, an immersion that happens when you all are in one same creative spirit.

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Go out and DO. Do something that you wouldn’t typically do. Because its only stagnant things that die. I may be far from pleased with my finished pieces, but this time it wasn’t about the outcome it was about the process.

 

All my love,

-Diana Processed with VSCO with hb1 preset