At dinner my husband asked me about my day in the studio and what I had been up to. My answer was, “Nothing much really.” As I sit down to write and reflect, that casually spoken comment comes back to mind. After all, I had spent a full day working without a break, so why that feeling of unaccomplishment? To understand that feeling better, I decided to write down all I did today:
Made 20 test cups
Made 20 test bowls
Made 10 tiles
Made 4 molds for square plates
Made 4 batches of test glazes
Made 2 porcelain cups
Glazed 4 pieces, loaded it in saggars and started the next charcoal firing test.
All this isn’t exactly nothing. It’s just that it doesn’t seem significant enough to talk about. However is it truly insignificant? Aren’t all the test pieces, test glazes and molds, the ground work for something that could eventually be exciting? Wasn’t all this the required preparation for experiments that keep me running to my studio all times of day and night?
Last year we got an extension done in one of the rooms. It was an involved job projected to take a couple of months. For the first few weeks I hardly saw any progress. When pressed, the contractor said, the foundation doesn’t seem like much but it is called the foundation for a reason because everything is supported by that. Now that our room is finished and in use, the unseen foundation and the work that went into making it has been forgotten but isn’t it the support of the very space that we are enjoying now? As I write these lines, I am starting to see my day in the studio in a different light. Today was spent working on the foundation of what could be a pathway to new exciting pieces and when that happens I need to remember the importance of the foundation and the significance of what seems insignificant.
