RJ Shulenburg on sun 19 jun 05
My kids come home from school, wander out to my little studio and say "Mom,
it's so quiet out here. Why don't you turn on some music?"
"There is music", I reply. "Listen to the birds, to the wind in the trees,
the silence of the kickwheel"...OK, I do have a ceiling fan that squeaks
that my husband says "Gee, Honey, that needs to be fixed"...but it doesn't
happen...they sigh and shake their heads filled with school marching band
and orchestra music, mess with my tools and wander out. As I am totally not
musically inclined, my music comes from the rhythm of throwing pots on my
kickwheel and I relish in their talent of being able to produce somewhat
recognizable sounds from flutes and oboes.
Recently I was rewatching, with my 15 year old daughter (who would rather
dress in pink than touch anything like wet clay and bemoaned the fact that
the video was 29 minutes long)... "Unbroken Tradition" a portrait of Jerry
Brown, a ninth generation potter (many
thanks Brad for bring this to our attention) and thinking that I am total
spoiled...ordering clay in plastic bags, glaze chemicals coming neatly
packaged, having a studio AND a kiln shed, that I might be able to throw a
little faster if I used an electric wheel but then on a reality check I
don't want to throw faster, I want enjoy the nuances of a kickwheel. I want
to hear the chickadees and titmice squabbling while the blue jays punctuate
the air with their jousting. I want to work a little to center the clay, to
pull the pot halfway up, pause, kick, pull again. A natural cycle...and I
think I've had WAY too much coffee this morning and need to go out to the
studio and make something... Ronda Shulenburg, Virginia
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