Earlier this week the Washington DC area got a little snowed in. As I set about that what I would do that snowy day, knowing I wouldn’t be able to make it into the studio, I decided to take on a little project I’d been meaning to get to.
A customer at Christmas purchased a plate from me that was subsequently broken in transit to her Aunt in Texas. She messaged me to find out what could be done and I offered to try to repair the piece, knowing that I really wasn’t an expert at this type of thing, but it would be a good skill to acquire.
I mean, one of my favorite weirdo sci-fi books is called Galactic Pot Healer and is about a future where the art of creating hand made objects has been lost, and the central character makes his living repair ceramics.
I had just come across a new epoxy that could fill missing parts, so decided to try it out.
Maybe you’ve heard of or seen Japanese pottery which has been repaired with gold, known as Kintsugi A whole philosophy exists behind this work.
"The vicissitudes of existence over time, to which all humans are susceptible, could not be clearer than in the breaks, the knocks, and the shattering to which ceramic ware too is subject”.
Every potter knows the heartbreak of shattered work. And I’d venture to say that almost everyone has had something break that they love. “Pottery is about loss” one famous potter is quoted to say.
But we all possess an indomitable spirit not to let these breaks get the better of us. I personally tend to have a strong reluctance to give up on things, even when rationally I know it would be better to move forward.
Being greeted with shattered pots from a kiln firing could make one consider trying something different, but most potters I know take it as a challenge to figure out what went wrong and to fix it.
Broken tumblers from my last kiln firing.
I repaired my customer's plate & was so pleased with the results I took the opportunity to set about repairing one of my favorite small plates, made as part of a series during a stint at Penland School of Crafts.
When I made these, I took my decorating and glaze experimentation to a whole new level, and was rewarded with pleasantly surprising results from the kiln.
The butterfly plate I broke a chip off of over 8 years ago, but kept that chip safe all this time. It is never too late to fix what is broken!
The chipped plate returned to me by my customer's Aunt gave me the chance to restore a gift - something of a gift in itself.
Friends, I wish you a happy late winter. Let's celebrate how perfectly imperfect we are, and how we can heal ourselves from our breaks.
Warmly,
Camille
