Why Clay?

Ihave had clay in my life ever since I first touched it in 1996, through everything, it has been my touchstone, but why?

I have no idea what drew me to the little old jail studio in Bonnyville in the winter of 1996. Each time I wipe a warm wet sponge across a wedging table, the fresh dirty smell takes me right back there. I find the same visceral response to the opening smell of a new bag of clay, it somehow pushes away whatever concerns I have and fills me with a feeling like I am truly in the right place at the right time. Please understand that I am completely aware of how stunningly lucky I am to feel such a sense of belonging in a particular medium, lucky and determined like a salmon knowing this path is right but it will also see me to my end. Someday, hopefully, another 57 years from now. This is why we built a studio. It was a tiny corner of the unfinished basement in Calgary at the turn of the century, then a weird tiny 8 x 11 room that we installed laminate flooring in once we realized that we would need a tenant in the main downstairs space to help cover the bills while I started my pottery life for real. 10 years in that room and then into a very organized half of a garage for a few years and finally into a large bright above ground studio in our home. The most perfect colour of uplifting blue on the walls and crisp white trim, then three brand new wheels and the teaching space was ready in the fall of 2018.

The clay brings such interesting folks into my studio. I have the honour of introducing people to the limitless potential of a wad of clay and the process of letting go of what we thought we were making when the clay shows us we were actually just making a mess! I guide people through the wedging, though it seems unrelated to the spinning magic of the wet clay with a good laugh about not making it into a zucchini. I hold their hands as they close their eyes and lean gently but firmly against the clay, trying to shut out the world and truly centre themselves, even if only for a minute.

The classes are unique too for those that sign up. They get to spend 2 hours at a time in a sacred space held by each of the 4 students and myself. We have to wear masks and keep apart (no hugs or snacks) but the muddy mess that covers their hands and arms and sometimes the walls, is almost an excuse to take risks and be silly and try hard at something really difficult in front of others who also came here to be fully present. I also relish the opportunity to escort the pots through the fires of hell at 2232*F as I light an incense for each kiln load and hand it to the kiln goddess as potters have done for thousands of years. I deeply miss the deep feelings of connection from group firings (like at the Tozan) but I will take the small victory of having my own studio, finally big enough to share my life’s work with a few who dare to try.

Hilary Huntley, Trial by Fire Pottery Cowichan Bay