big day yesterday: sold the pottery wheel, kiln & related stuff. i kept a few tools i'll take to ithaca. i amuse myself often these days, watching my choices and reactions, some of which are quite ridiculous.
i took my first pottery class at age 35 fifteen years ago, at the urging of my (still) good friend, janet. over the next few years, we went through the death throes of doomed marriages together, and the pottery was therapy.
but it was more than that. until that pottery class, i'd come to terms with the fact that i was completely left-brained, and had no artistic side. that was ok -- i was good at various things and that was enough.
discovering pottery was like those dreams where you find rooms in your house you didn't know were there. i was hooked. and speaking of dreams, it was in a dream that i first told someone "i'm a potter."
over the next few years, i taught pottery classes, worked as a potter, had a studio at home, had pieces in great galleries and sold a few. i tried to find the right balance between all this fabulous creative time which pulls me and the things that push -- this drive to use my intellect and to affect both individual lives and the overall systems we all operate in.
now i'm faced with the reality that i need to be highly portable for the next few years. i'll be crazy busy and living in a tiny place. i'll likely spend summers and possibly a semester elsewhere. i can't keep this stuff.
so this is a big thing, this selling off of equipment, because it's an active acknowledgment that pottery's rightful place is not the center of my life. and an active trusting that there will be chances to play in the mud, even if i let go. that i am still who i am, even without all this stuff.
Labels: living well, pottery