Thursday, November 25, 2010

two days of silence...what could it mean?

Well, I really intended to post something but life got in the way - sort of. I have been fretting a little about participating in my first pottery sale at the guild. I've built up so much pottery in the past year that it's really time to part with some of it. But that leads to the inevitable questions.

Will anyone buy it?
What if it's too ugly?
This is a public admission of my work, and what if it's laughable by comparison with the work of more experienced potters?
What could I even charge for my pieces without feeling weird?

And a part of my brain realizes this is ridiculous because it doesn't matter. I like the pieces, and they are representative of the journey I've been on for the past 18 months. And it really is a success. There are no flintstonian blobs anymore, and I've even been glazing well the past few firings. So what's the big deal?

Same thing it usually is. Adults who were self-conscious teens are usually self-conscious adults when confronted with their own inexperience and frailties. Most of us, anyway.

I should probably just deal with it. After all, I need to sell pieces in order to justify the continued expense of pursuing this avenue of creativity. Not so I can make a profit but more so I can recoup the cost of the process. I would feel less guilty about the expense if I could lessen it somehow with the sale of pieces. So, in dropping off a couple of boxes of bowls etc. last night, I'm taking a leap of faith - that somehow what I've been doing will be of worth to someone else. Then I'll really believe I can keep doing this. That's what I'm telling myself anyway. No one will be happier than me if I sell a bunch of it.


  1. Hey Cousin Deb-
    I have so appreciated your blog-you say eloquently what I think, but I just blurt it out all wrong. If we lived closer, I would purchase your pottery...but distance is a little problem. Good luck with the sale tomorrow.

  2. I like them! and you know at least one piece is bought as soon as I get to your house... Walter was thinking about this week but I never heard anymore about it and I had to work anyways...