Art and Community: Why I Make Pots

I grew up in southwestern Maine in a home where arts and crafts were valued. When I was five, my mother co-founded a craft store featuring the work of Maine artisans. In this environment, I learned early on to understand and appreciate the value of traditional handcrafts. Many of our friends were craftspeople, and as I watched them work, I became fascinated and wanted to try my hand. At age seven, I began taking pottery lessons from a neighbor with a wood-fired kiln, and immediately fell in love with clay. Though I learned and still practice a number of crafts, I knew right away that I wanted to become a potter. After college, I learned my craft during apprenticeships with April Adams and Nancy LaPointe as I prepared to start a studio of my own. My husband and I have settled in Gouldsboro, where I am close to my greatest inspirations—the sea and sky, wood and stone of downeast Maine.

To me, art is only truly alive in community. When I throw a pot, I've only begun the process of practicing my craft. For me, craft is a conversation; it's only when that pot is picked up and used that it takes on life and real, practical beauty. Talking to people about my craft, helping them to understand the work and care that goes into each piece I make, is important, not just because it helps them to appreciate my work, but because it can help them value traditional ways of life and the vital role of traditional crafts in communities around the world. As a member of the Bangor, Maine/Carasque, El Salvador sister city committee, cultural survival—here in Maine and around the world—is of utmost importance to me. I feel I am part of a community of artisans, not just in Maine, but everywhere people are struggling to maintain their cultures, their dignity, their joy and pride in the work they do in the face of homogenization and globalization.

My aim as an artisan is to bring beauty into the everyday by making functional works of art. Handcrafts help bring a sense of intention and care to daily life; the pride a potter, weaver, or woodworker takes in her work is present in the work of her hand. A well-made pot can be a friend in daily use, and can remind us to pause and appreciate the unique and sacred nature of each moment as we arrange flowers, cook a meal, or enjoy a cup of tea. Behind each pot is the potter's hand, reaching out in friendship.