The Lonely Potter: Christmas Comes Late

There are no children at the Lonely Potter's house, so Christmas tends to be focussed on food rather than gift giving. The Christmas of 2009 was no different. There were no wild scrambles to find the "just what I wanted" gift, no mountains of wrapping paper to recycle, just a peaceful enjoyment of good company, a beautiful tree, and, of course, excellent food. When the tree started to drop it's needles it was time to put away the Christmas decorations and get back to "normal", without having experienced "abnormal". Then, a few days before Valentine's Day, a box arrived that almost made up for the anticipation, excitement, ripping open of packages, and finally, the exclamations of delight we didn't experience at Christmas.

The Lonely Potter dislikes urban life so he has chosen to live just outside a small community, three hours drive from anything like a major centre and six hours from Vancouver. This creates some inconveniences, such as being unable to easily connect with other pottery people and being unable to shop for those special tools and supplies he needs to experiment and develop his own style of pottery. This has led to hours of trolling the internet, searching for really good pottery websites, with videos of other potters demonstrating their skills, and shopping sites from pottery suppliers. (Here is where, if I had a polular blog, I would put links to these sites, and you would click on them, and I might make a couple of dollars. Until more people start to read this blog, however, convincing them to pay me for sending customers their way might be a challenge. Instead, if you want any of their addresses, contact me and I will give them to you, but you have to promise to tell them who sent you!)

There is a pottery supplier that is like a potters' toyland, and the box that arrived before Valentine's Day, was an order from there. It was a large box, packed full of wooden, metal and bamboo tools, brushes and decorations. It took about five minutes from the time this box arrived until it was unpacked, wrapping paper tossed aside and all the contents examined and exclaimed over. This was better than Christmas - these things had been wished for years ago, and each one held the promise of being able to try new things, to learn, and to, perhaps, find fulfilment.

For those of us who don't feel a rush of excitment when we discover a new tool or a better tool, this reaction may be hard to understand. The only comparison I can think of is in cooking. When I look at the collection of cooking implements we have accumulated over the years, I can't remember when or why any of them seemed important. To this day, I hardly ever use anything other than a sharp knife, a fork and a wooden spoon when I cook. Still, there is a feeling of security in knowing that, if I need to whisk, grate, or sieve, I can. I suppose it is the same for the lonely potter. As he becomes more comfortable with the basics of pottery, he begins to see new forms he would like to try, new shapes, textures and other variations. Perhaps, just by looking at a new tool, he can create a vision of what will, one day, become a piece of pottery. If a box full of tools can provide the inspiration he needs to enjoy pottery, I'll trade Christmas for pottery day any time.

Meanwhile, the pottery studio is starting to fill up, and the lonely potter is definitely making it his own.