When did fun stop?

I got this pic from a student at The Kiln Studio in Fairhope, Alabama  of her grand daughter playing in the clay. Shelley Leigh is a newbie to clay and is obsessed by it. Finding her own clay on the beach making pots and firing it. She is the first one in the studio each day and goes home to read about potters, clay and in the workshop always had just one more question. I affectionately referred to her as Colombo.  I love this pic of her grand daughter sliding in the clay. It speaks volumes to me of what kids need in their lives. Air and the freedom to make their own fun.

When I was a kid my brother James and I on weekends  would hop on our bikes and ride for miles and miles to a swimming hole where we would build a fort, a raft, go skinny dipping, slide down a mud slope into the swimming hole , build a fire and cook hotdogs, and do stuff like we were Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer. My parents expected us home for dinner but other than that it was up to us to make our own fun.
I have never grown up. I made these sketches today of pots I would like to be able to make. Now, if I can only translate what I did by throwing slabs of clay on the table into pots I'll be home and cool. It's too late for me to grow up. I look at Shelley's grand daughter and I think of my child hood. You want to play baseball? Here is a baseball, a glove  and a bat now go play baseball but be sure to be home for supper.
I make art. Art is my life. Art begins with the ability to create on your own. Sliding down a bank of clay is the beginning of a creative life.


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