I’ve never been a fan of finales. I can remember crying (hard) when the last episode of Lassie aired on television when I was a kid. I didn’t want to let it go. I’ve learned as I’ve grown to say my goodbyes and move forward.
I’m thinking about all of this for a couple of reasons. I attended one of the last local performances of Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey circus this weekend. I felt a little lump in my throat during the final act, but realize this circus-model is no longer viable. It’s one more ending I’ll add to my list.
Many years ago, when I was first trying to loosen my clay-making rigidity and mostly throwing pots on the wheel, I hand-built a series of bowls with torn edges and three spiral-coiled feet. I used a colorful palette of under glaze on the inside and each of the feet. These became nicknamed my cirque bowls. They were a departure for me and have led me to my current organic approach to making clay vessels.
I made the bowl on the left many years ago with a potter's wheel. The bowl on the right was created more recently using a slab of clay pushed into shape over a mini basketball. Each one is a functional bowl; the aesthetic is different and shows how my clay art has evolved.
I’ve learned to let go of old and familiar life patterns, experiences and things to make room for new ones to flourish. This time of year seems to lend itself to this shedding. Peeling away layers of clothing as the temperatures rise seems to be a good metaphor for noticing other life experiences that may need a good shake off. Old is comforting and familiar. New is unwieldy and unsettling. Honor what’s past, but move on. Embrace what will become and enjoy the ride. Those are my springtime mantras.