Wonder, Gratitude, Ache, & Agency

Sitting by a fire and watching raindrops blip into puddles on the patio, I am filled with wonder, gratitude, ache, and agency.

Wonder

This year a vision became a reality. Sensing that I’d lose access to studio space, a real fear, I shifted focus from the need to improve our old house and chose to renovate our garage instead.

This month the project felt fully complete with a test fire and then a full run of the new-to-me Skutt 1227 Kiln. I can make my ceramic work from start to finish, at home on my own. Woo-Hoo! 

An open studio day? Yes, it has happened. There will be more.

Using the space for maker workshops? Yes, this is the next  chapter of the vision. Local makers, stay tuned.

Gratitude

The year began and ended with sharing my work in public. In January and February my solo exhibit Speaking For My Self filled the rotunda at the Zapara School of Business. The intimate work presented stories of my own inherited and generational trauma and initiated a non-traditional public space as an art gallery. 

This was so well received that I’ve been invited back when I’m ready with more work. Yay!

The year ended with a “soft-opening” for the installation EMPTY. The work sparked conversation and many bowls stamped empty were sold to raise funds and awareness.

Empty, 2023

Pine lumber, 504 high-fire ceramic spoons, twine

111" x 79" x 55"

(For more images, CLICK HERE.)

So many people collaborated to create this work, from volunteers making hundreds of spoons, to the installation designer and preparator.

Sweet surprise after the installation—a write up in the Raincross Gazette.

So far, I’ve sent over $1600 to Alvord Cares. Alvord Cares is a volunteer group that addresses the community trauma of food insecurity among children in Kindergarten through 5th grade by providing weekend food for those most at risk.

Ache

What a year.

The seemingly inexorable unraveling of human dignity through racism, war, violence, neglect, in my hometown and across the globe. Ongoing extraction from the planet in the name of progress and profit.

To be an artist (a human) involves a delicate balance of awareness and involvement, and a practice of inward listening and perspective-taking.

My success rate at finding this balance is mixed with times of deep overwhelm and grief, and periods of bliss and contentment when I almost fall to my knees in astonishment to be alive on this best-of-all planets.

I choose to engage with struggle in my own life in much the same way I engage with it through my art. By slowing down and leaning in.

I’ve been sitting with the ache and work of breaking cycles and addressing inherited and generational trauma. In the process, I know that my boundaries may be seen as unreasonable by folks who have other expectations. I remind myself that it is possible to love people AND need to protect oneself with distance.

Protecting my peace in the present and creating space for healing and growth, now and in the future, is messy, achy, awesome & worthy work. 

Agency

A bit of non-news: Control is an illusion. 

AND, we have agency. We can choose how we act, speak, heal in the face of perpetual impermanence.

My wonder, gratitude and even my ache is laced through with agency. 

Fear was the initial motivator for the garage studio renovation. But a longing for greater freedom in my craft, and belief that I am worthy of it, is what moved me into action and carried the project to completion.

Asking as a form of agency led to so much gratitude. Asking for what I need is a kind of superpower, hat tip to Brené Brown. Collaboration is thrilling to me as a maker. Galvanizing folks around a clear purpose yields astonishing results and creates effervescent connections. Each step of the process and the outcome, a shared triumph.

Early conversations about EMPTY led to unexpected and treasured introductions in the community. An invitation to free workshops led to the making of over 500 clay spoons! So far, more than 50 people have been involved in the making of the socially-engaged, art activism that is EMPTY.

Amidst ache, I have agency. Joy and rest are forms of resistance. Doing the difficult work of addressing and healing generational trauma, regulating my own emotions, protecting my peace, maintaining healthy boundaries all keep me fit to do my work as an artist. To show up and make a difference in ways available to me.

Ahead

Pausing to note where I stand now. Taking my bearings as I look ahead to the new year.

Wishing you full measures of wonder, gratitude, ache, and agency in all that is to come.