How we got here…

Sculpture v. Pottery: My Failures and How Spite Gave Me Courage

When I was starting out I was actually more in love with sculpting than wheel throwing. I was convinced that I was not good at it and some people had a talent for it—I had no such talent, my hands didn’t move right, my moves were too hard, my timing and speed were playing catch up to what steps I was supposed to be doing… It was the most exhausting and discouraging thing (funny enough).

For the first two years as I struggled to understand what the hell my hands were supposed to do I delved into sculpture. Sculpture felt like it was not so threatening because as long as it didn’t blow up it was still a sculpture. It started with small creatures, animals mostly, because if I could articulate even the idea of the animal that I was representing it meant I was on the right track, it was relaxing in comparison.

My classmates for my throwing class were making such beautiful pieces and when it came to critique mine they paled in comparison, truthfully I shat the bed when my work was being looked at. I remember the look of pity in their eyes, I remember the reluctance of my professor, I can still recall the quiet comments from the kiln room about how bad my work was. And at the time it really hurt and I thought that as long as I had sculpture I didn’t need to give up my dreams just yet. But I learned to stick to my strengths for a while.

I finished 2.5 years at my community college at the time and it was imperative that I take every ceramic class and opportunity I could find; seeing how this was already the love of my life. (I’ll tell you how pottery was the beginning of my healing another day<3 ) I interned, I took independent study classes for ceramics and with that determination I was able to get to New Paltz where the world started to clearly define a path for me. ( I was still bad at pottery, like oh my god…) Regardless, I was running entirely on blind spite in order to become a ceramic artist.

Here’s where oddly enough throwing comes into the mix: It was probably the beginning of my 3rd year of doing ceramics that I was able to have an instructor articulate the missing component of what I needed to get me going on the wheel! (Thank you Michael<3)

It was 3 years of trying to prove people including myself wrong, that I was actually going to learn dispute my lack of talent. It was in those few months that I realized that talent was a great gift but damn it felt so much better to earn the ability that I have now!

Now I can say that it took work but there is no greater declaration of love than consistency and time. I loved myself to not give into the words of others when it came to throwing, I felt it inside me that I knew that I was always making strides towards something with each failure. Failure became my best friend and at one point we lost touch— at least in the significant ways we used to share which felt nice. But you can never evade her for long—

Once I accomplished making work I was proud of throwing wise I completely fumbled the bag when I went back to sculpture. All my pieces were poorly articulate and the structural integrity was questionable. I didn’t realize at the time that by placing one aspect of my craft on a pedestal that meant I would have to challenge myself again with a practice that used to give me confidence. I was shook for sure (granted I shifted into a more esoteric/conceptual representational work).

I felt that my ideas were not truly conveyed as well as I wanted yet I still needed to do research into my project. I was attempting to illustrate the nuances between visual and physical texture, having work encroach in someone’s space as representational molecular forms. Where molecules later became small worlds of their own. My initial excitement preceded my technical understanding of the material and the method of working at the time.

Its easy to get so caught up in the research but it can result in a language only accessible to those who have done the same research as you, and in my case that wasn’t a majority of my audience. This had me question if I should even pursue sculpture again… We separated for many years.

I’ve been a potter for the last 5 years and I’ve loved so many aspects of it. I didn’t realize how magical the wheel was until I spent intimate moments struggling and falling forward again. I can finally say that throwing has become like breathing for me at this point. After I graduated form undergrad, I became an intern and then soon after an instructor for wheel classes. I didn’t realize how much possibility there was to pottery in its own right. I built so much respect for the time and the tower of effort that went into my artistic development.

I am currently a ceramic instructor and I have to say that I may not know everything there is to know yet in potter but I am always learn from my students more and more. I think that learning from all of my students actually is the reason that I can throw so earnestly and so confidently.

Funny enough, my sister and I still joke about how my pottery was so bad that when I told her I wanted to become a Ceramic Artist she was scared that I didn’t have another plan!

Recently, I have been going back to big concepts as things to depict in my work. It became too difficult to conceive it in the form of potter. I took a few gambles on coil building and nothing truly felt like a win. I was frustrated and reluctant that once again my sculpture skills were lost. But luckily, I took one more gamble on myself! I bought a $10 online class to learn how to make a bust. That class was so good that I had the audacity to put that very sculpture into a show at the National Council for Education in the Ceramics Arts Conference. It felt like I could win again, that my old friend came back with a vengeance and with a little guidance and the right instruction I was able to take one more step towards building the work in my dreams. The pieces that will advocate and represent me for once. I won’t have the same level of uncertainty with who I am beneath the work. I believe this because I have surpassed even my own expectations of myself time and time again.

Moral of the Story: Don’t give up— time will heal even your bad pottery and rendering skills eventually<3