It seems appropriate to me that they would have pottery lessons at the Timpanogos Storytelling Festival. Clay is like a book, it has a memory and records the movements of my hands as I work it. Before paper man used clay to record their records. I am excited to be teaching pottery over the next two days at the Timpanogos Storytelling Festival. I hope all of you have as great a day as I plan to!
– Jerel
It’s time for me to get behind the wheel again. I have been separated from my dear friend for so long. Too many lame excuses to not be out in the sweltering heat of the studio, there is other work to be done, one reason after another to not be out working. I am losing my sanity and need some time behind the wheel, feeling the sweet sensation of the clay sliding between my fingers soothing and calming to bring it back; it is one of the few things in this world that I have some semblance of control over. I hope the muscles in my fingers and arms can remember the motions, I know my brain does. It is like riding a bicycle right? While my typing skills have improved dramatically as of late, I need to exercise the other half of my brain. Working is clay is one of the best stress managers that I know of. Some exercise, others clean, some nap, I work clay. I love the smell that wafts out of a freshly opened bag, the deep rich earthy scents that speak of eons of history contained in my hands. The uniquely malleable substance that is waiting to give dimension, depth, volume, form to the visions in my head. It is time for me to return to my love. Don’t you want to come and join me?
![[Photo: Jerel - Early Bottle circa 1994]](http://greyforeststudio.com/wp-content/files/2010/07/earlybottle-02.jpg "Jerel - Early Bottle circa 1994")
This past Spring I took the chance to catch a ride out to Rough and Ready, California where I grew up. I was able to visit family and stay with my Mother and Father. While I was there I saw some of my early pottery proudly on display. The sight of it made me cringe. I tend to look at my work with a very critical eye. There are very few pieces that I have made that I can look at and go, “That actually is very nice”. When people hear me talk about my own work this way they give me the *hairy eyeball* and tell me I am crazy. Maybe it is because in my mind I am nowhere near *arriving*, I would hate to think that in my short career as an Artist that I have “Made It” already, I still see the potential for so much growth in the work I do, whether it is wheel thrown functional ware or the abstracted figurative sculpture that has drawn so much of my attention as of late. While the early work may make me shudder to look upon, it is also motivational for me. It provides me with a benchmark, some tangible work that I can see and compare with my current body of work. It helps me to see the progress I have made in technique, design, and skill as an artist. It gives me a measure of my growth, and so in the end I am grateful to my mother for saving those hideous pieces, for storing them away where I could not get my hands on them, to give them the “Hammer Treatment”, and break them in a fit of shame. It is important for us to keep a record of where we have been so we can see where we are going, and the path that has brought us there.