Story Time

Story Time

When the art show approaches at the end of each semester, I ask my ceramics students to write artist statements. The reaction to this assignment is usually mixed. Some students took the class because they anticipated not having to write at all. Others ask for a...
The craft of feedback

The craft of feedback

My phone rings at quarter to midnight. I don’t have the sort of life in which anyone ever calls me so late, especially on a school night.  I am jolted out of sleep, expecting a nightmare of something-gone-wrong. But when I see who is calling, I smile my way to...
The Human Option

The Human Option

She sat down at the wheel with a lopsided ball of clay, and most of the tools she would need. Her hands might have been shaking, but it was hard to tell, as I did not want to make her nervous by watching too closely. Her daughter sat right beside her, studying her...
With eyes shut

With eyes shut

One of my students is teaching himself to throw pots while blindfolded. Actually, all of the teaching has already happened. The porcelain bowls he has been throwing are as lovely as anything made with full vision – soft, fluid, and graceful. He ripped a soft old...
Water

Water

There is a spot in northern Michigan where a creek that has been meandering through the forest rushes into a great lake. I won’t tell you where it is, because I would be giving away a secret gifted to me by locals – friends who, on my first visit to the place,...
Pausing

Pausing

My students finish out the school year by packing their bags.  They depart soon after the last class for service trips in foreign countries, sports camps at colleges, or down time at the shore house.  I need to pack my own bags soon, to begin my second summer of work...