For my Studio Art class at Boulder, one of our assignments this week was to write a letter of appreciation to a material we've worked with. Naturally my gratitude for clay bubbled to the surface. I adore ceramics, but due to Covid regulations and studio availability, it's been harder to get behind the potter's wheel recently. After writing this letter, I've done everything in my power to search for open studios and find space to keep continuing my involvement with ceramic work. Not that I wasn't working towards that before, but suddenly, there was an extra desire fueling my search. I don't just want to make pottery again, I simply have to. I'm sharing this sappy letter in hopes that it will inspire you. If you're feeling discouraged in your job, relationships, or passion projects, consider writing a letter of appreciation (however silly it may seem). It's a wonderful way to recenter yourself on why these things matter to you, and that love you feel for them. So here you have it folks, my love letter to pottery. To All of the Clay I’ve Ever Worked With and All I have Yet To, I have spent many days and long nights covered head to toe in clay splatters. Soft then crackly, imprinting my skin, leaving little traces of creativity and artwork in my hair. A long day of wheel and kiln work leaves me elated. Clay teaches you as you work with it. It makes you patient, hardworking, and human. It makes you strive for things even when the process is long, because you can so clearly picture the end product. It makes the messy beautiful and the process enchanting. Working with clay reminds you of how fickle life is, how easily things change, how much it just doesn’t matter in the long run. Countless pieces of pottery have flown off the wheel, broken in the kiln, shattered in transport. You would think this process is cruel but somehow it’s endearing, because you can say “Ah, time to try again,” and just like that, you’re back rolling slabs, cutting clay, throwing and firing. Clay, you are ever changing. You constantly resist the situation you’re in, moving and changing and forming. I’ve always felt a kinship to your restlessness. We are one of a kind, always striving for new experiences, new lessons, new moments and memories. We both form beautiful things, messy things, in between things. I relate to you. You know me and you encompass my spirit. I long to be back in the studio, to interact with the material I love so much. I miss the way clay feels under my hands, the joy I feel perched behind the potter's wheel. I miss creating beautiful things that weave their way into my daily use- a wheel thrown mug, a tiny jewelry dish, a cereal bowl. I want to be back in the studio where I belong. Clay, I will find a way to work with you soon dear friend. Until then, stay restless. I promise I will do the same. xo, Bailey Diamond Some of my favorite pieces are currently for sale, so you can feel that same joy I do :) Here is my Etsy link www.etsy.com/shop/baileydiamondpottery
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