The Art of Slowing Down

My transition into a creative career is is delivering fundamental life lessons that I previously only understood on an intellectual level. I often run from one activity to the next without taking a break; multitasking wherever possible. There are never enough hours in the day and my life goes by way too fast. Sound familiar?

I didn’t intend to live this way. I grew up with two workaholic parents in the United States, where one’s career takes precedence over life. Hence I thought I could escape the same fate by moving to Spain. A place where people work to live, not live to work.

Nonetheless, during my early thirties, I assumed the role of Managing Editor for an online business publication and contributed to nonprofit causes on the side. Ceramics remained my cherished pastime, and I went to the studio whenever possible. Regrettably, it wasn’t very often.

New beginnings

Almost two years ago, I split ways with the magazine and decided to dedicate my time to what I loved most—creating with clay. That’s not to say that my new career path is less demanding.  Starting out as an emerging ceramic artist requires grit, dedication and long hours at the studio. However, there is a clear difference in the way I’m spending those long hours.

As I dedicate more time to my artistic pursuits, distinct life lessons begin to surface. When engrossed in clay work, I feel more grounded. My thoughts wander less, and my anxiety diminishes. The hours still fly by, but I don’t feel like they’re wasted, because I am present.

I have spent many years reading about mindfulness and living in the now. It all makes perfect sense on paper, but incorporating these practices into one’s day-to-day is harder than it sounds.

Ceramics is a slow art

There’s no rushing clay. If you try to rush it, push it, make it dry faster, the clay will rebel and collapse or crack. Firing clay is a complicated and unpredictable process. A piece may need to be fired multiple times before it’s presentable. There is an intricate progression for each piece. They can either take weeks or months from start to finish.

Today artists can purchase clay and glazes from the store, which speeds up the process. Traditional potters who find and dig their clay from the earth, process the clay, create their own glazes and fire in wood burning kilns are modern day heroes as far as I’m concerned.

There is beauty and satisfaction in the slow evolution of this work.

Acceptance of what is

There are numerous important lessons ceramics can teach us. Working with clay is a highly unpredictable process and pieces are very fragile before the final firing. Pieces break all the time.

Tara Daly said it beautifully in this month’s edition of Ceramics Monthly; “What few people outside of the clay community know is how hard we work to maintain a clay habit—the physical brutality, the mental accommodation for unpredictability, the habitual acceptance of loss.”

To be a ceramic artist you must learn patience, acceptance, adaptability and persistence. Fortunately, these skills also lead to a better quality of life. I’m happy to be learning, accepting and loving my new slow road.