P is for Pottery

I miss working at Osage Clayworks. I miss making something beautiful out of dirt. I miss opening the kiln after a fire and seeing the magic. I miss the feel of slip on my hands. I miss creating.

On one of my more recent trips to Arkansas this spring (for data collection purposes, of course!) I had the opportunity to stop by Osage, AR and to visit with my friend, Newton Lale, at Osage Clayworks. Newton, ever affable and the most wonderful host, chatted with us while we watched him throw a dozen dinner plates. He amused Orion by handing him a wad of clay to play with. We hung around for about an hour listening to stories of local potters and the whirrr of the wheel; the entire time I watched Newt's thumb- out from the center and up over the lip, out from the center and up over the lip, and again.

As I watched Newton I thought of my "everyday dishes" at home and how when I wash them, I can feel the subtle ridges left by Newton's thumb. I am lucky enough to have a set of Newton's Stony Dishes (dinner plates, salad plates, and chili bowls) that John's mom bought years ago and later decided were TOO heavy so she gave them to me. About two years ago I added eight tall coffee mugs with handles to the collection.

We have a bigger house now. With room for John's grandmother's kiln. We're looking for a wheel. Who knows, perhaps by this fall I'll have my hands back in the slip bucket.