[This is one of many posts I’ve written in the last month about the beauty of making pots and visiting friends while we were on tour. I’ll keep ’em coming as I get caught up!]
As many of you may know, Jeff and I were on the road for the month of August. Our travels took us to pottery shows, friends’ houses, a gallery opening, various artists’ studios, and into our families’ hearts and homes. We spent numerous evenings around a shared table surrounded by loved ones new and old, almost always picking up wherever we left off, that wonderful and surprising dynamic of friendship and family connections that reminds you all is OK in the world.
I could write about our successes, the most precious moments catching butterflies in Pennsylvania with Jeff’s little cousins, or playing doubles tennis with my Mom and Rick. I could wax poetic about meeting and visiting new-to-me family, celebrating my Dad’s birthday on the river or visiting acquaintances and artists in the Georgia and Pennsylvania countryside.
What sticks out the most, though, is how we shared pots, some that Jeff and I made together, with people who would cherish and use them, hopefully coming to enjoy them as much as I have over the past few months. Sharing our love and our craft with others enriches my days and brightens my future.
I hadn’t quite found the words to summarize and encapsulate our month together traveling. We explored so many new places, were forced to find peace in so many odd situations, that I couldn’t pinpoint one theme or overall experience.
It’s been a few days since we plowed down I-95 to Miami. I rejoiced a little bit when we drove into Florida, with puffy clouds overhead, blue skies all the way and a salty breeze. But it wasn’t till a little customer note showed up in my inbox yesterday that I realized the gift we have.
As background, before we left for our trip, we decided to leave our Etsy shop up and running and just take down listings as we sold items. While we were staying in Rising Fawn before our final show, we received an order from a random customer. She ordered a mini pot or “mommy pot,” one I think I’d been trying to sell to friends since we made it. We lugged a ton of mini pots around with us, all of them no taller than 3 inches, and it was worth it. One of my favorites, this pot in glowed, with turquoise glaze and fishscale details. Here’s what she wrote.
Hello Laura and Jeff,
I wanted to thank you for the beautiful little ‘mommy pot.’ There used to be a local store that ordered something similar and I always knew I could go pick them up for baby showers. They’ve not been easy to find in recent years, even on the Internet.
Anyway, I’m sure that isn’t the last one I’ll order from you. Mostly I love that they are unique and individual. I think it was just beautiful and so did the new mother who just adopted a baby boy.
My own children are 25 and 29 now, but one of my favorite possessions is my mommy pot. It holds powerful and beautiful memories. Crazy that something so small can be so meaningful. I’m so glad I found you and look forward to learning more about what you’re doing.
Many, many thanks!
More than making sales, more than the press releases and shows and even sweet reunions, the moments that stick out to me are the ones like above: memories and experiences like holdable, usable clay pieces that represent so much more than a mug, a tiny vase or bowl. That we can make such things from clay, mud and water fired into a shiny pot… continues to amaze me.
It’s good to be home, wherever we are. I gotta get my hands in some clay.