Joyce Lee on sun 17 mar 02
Each NCECA seems to have a different focus for me, though I've only =
attended four so perhaps repetition will begin in time....... is it I, =
or the influence of Clayart postings, or? In Denver, for instance, the =
Clayart Room was the treasured spot where I finally met potters to whom =
I'd been talking for two years, the famous¬-so-famous .... and where =
many of you actually brought me plates/pots for my Clayart =
Collection!.... so many that I had to have two boxes packed&shipped ... =
a collection which represents many levels of skill, each one exhibited =
with pride as it brings a sense of warmth to this desert home. =
Hesitating at the Clayart Room door .... first time there .... I turned =
a corner, hoping to ease into a spot where I could simple observe.... =
and heard/saw the Mayor for the first time ... saying "And here's Joyce =
Lee" ..... How does he do that? How did he know? Guess it's part of the =
mystique which makes him the Mayor .. Within that room I found the New =
Family for my Youth of Old Age, each member now part of my world of =
reality, yes, but also a sharer in my personal world of imagination .... =
part of my grounded self, as well as part of the limitless boundaries =
they offer me daily on our magic list.
The Charlotte Clayart Room became, for me, a place to take my shoes off =
and recover from the unaccustomed additional miles walked each day ... =
to arrange plans for breaking bread together .... to discover what =
presentations NOT to miss ... to feel the joy of listening to clay =
chatter .... artist chatter .... intertwined with the joking&teasing =
which goes on wherever claybuds gather ... continuations of many =
favorite threads on Clayart ... comforting to be so surrounded and to =
understand exactly what was being said as I clued in to an endless =
variety of subjects .... many of the words from Dear Friends wearing =
faces I'd never before seen.
I'm still absorbing the impact of Kansas City's Clayart Room. There =
seemed to be a greater number of self-designated lurkers who introduced =
themselves, shared examples of their claywork and, in the words of one, =
just kept "scooting closer&closer" until ..... just as predicted ... she =
suddenly was laughing&chatting and a contributing member of that =
moment's assembly of
claybuds. More lengthy, spontaneous philosophical discussions than in =
past years seemed to prevail ... how to live a creative life as well as =
the effects of negativity on one's own creative energy.... triggered =
reminders that clay has expanded my personal journey from hoping to =
know&understand others ... to learning to know myself .... which I've =
come to believe is an enlightenment of a high order. These =
conversations reminded me that the passion of knowing and caring about =
others ... thus, learning more about oneself ... cannot be lived in a =
vacuum .... that passion cannot come without both a sense of integrity =
AND an exposure to the richness of sights, music, literature, history, =
art .... which can be found everywhere, not just in the cultural centers =
of our world..... everywhere.....
I can tell that the KC Clayart Room will require much time before its =
impact can be fully experienced ....
Joyce
In the Mojave where the wind was cold and the sand was swirling in the =
dark as our small plane hiccupped onto our tiny tarmac ....
that last leg which lasts about 50 minutes always huckitybuckity's me =
into my personal Real World .... the dozen or so passengers dispersed =
quickly, grateful as always to depart the VomitComet.... as I =
rolled&bumped my bag to my little heaterless DodgeRam '85 truck .. =
which grudgingly transported me the last two miles home...... that truck =
hates me..... it knows I want to replace it with a bigger, shinier =
one..... soon.....
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