I am a ceramicist, creating vessels out of earth, water, fire.
In the studio of my teacher Kashio, a Japanese national treasure, was a ledge that circled the room with ceramic pieces, some millennia old. He learned from these masters, his teachers. Being part of a tradition, an inheritance from centuries past, is at the core of great ceramic work. This is so similar to the Rabbinic traditions of engaging in Jewish conversations over time. It is a cardinal rule that one cites the learning gained from one’s teachers, b’shem omro, in the name of the one who taught you.
Kashio taught me core life principles. Ceramics are forever, for even broken shards, once fired at 2200 degrees, will always remain. Create your pieces as if they – and you – are here for eternity.
When I went to smooth out a vessel, my teacher stopped me and said “No, leave the imprints of your fingers on the bowl. Fingerprints show that you existed.” Being a potter, he taught, is to be vulnerable. Clay may collapse as you work it, the bowl may crack when drying, explode in the kiln, fall off the shelf. A potter must accept failure, to be broken, and celebrate the process even more than the product. The adventure of living is living, not any particular outcome.
Dr. David Elcott is a teacher, artist, author, father of four and grandfather of ten. www.facebook.com/david.elcott
