Introspection into Clay as a Medium for Expression

Have you ever felt that you don't have control over certain parts of your life? The alarm rings, it's 7am. You rub your eyes, it's still dark outside, and your thinking to yourself wouldn't it be nice to just lay here for another hour or so. You gradually pull one leg, then another over the side of the bed, and your feet are now planted into the first parts of your day. You make your way through the bedroom door heading down the hallway to the bathroom. You stop for a second, look at yourself in the mirror and think to yourself, "I don't remember how I got here, wasn't I just sleeping?" and then something cues your brain to keep going. Now, onto the rituals of teeth brushing, showering, (and run on sentences); you know the usual hygiene stuff your parents taught you when you were 7 years old. You pull your clothes on, one leg then another, one arm then the other, and before you know it your head is popping through an 8 inch diameter hole some poor factory worker in Sri Lanka made on 50 cents an hour pay(http://www.verite.org/news/View%20from%20Sri%20Lanka.htm). These are the things I think about getting ready in the morning. It keeps my mind occupied and fresh. I'm always asking: Why? What if? Who am I?

And then, there's the feeling of the Earth between my fingers. Clay, with its excellent plasticity, yearns to be manipulated. I feel in control. My mind oscillates for a few seconds, between the hum of electricity coming from my pottery wheel and a spiritual connection between my fingers and the soft clay. Before I know it, I've made a vase, a drinking vessel, whatever. It doesn't matter, I feel in control, and I'm making pottery that pleases my mind and soul. There's no sense of urgency when making the pieces. I'm not trying to make $3,000 worth of pots in one night. My goal is to make pots that I find appealing, and don't resemble a manufacturing mold. I'm a potter by choice, and I love it. There's no better compliment in the world than when someone buys a pot from me or wherever, uses it, enjoys it, and realizes its energy that it's handmade among all the factory-piled plates and cups from Target, Ikea, or ____, piled in the cupboard.

Ken Chin-Purcell has the motto, "The Future is Hand made," and I believe it (http://www.bungalowpottery.com/index). I hope that this phrase is realized before I'm dead. 6.6 billion strong, I hope we figure it out.