Failures and setbacks have been the theme for this month. And honestly, it’s been exhausting. It’s tiring when you get knocked down repeatedly and you have to get up and try again. I’ve mostly had a good attitude about the unplanned delays, but it’s been draining to stay positive. And while it’s just pottery, it’s also how I make a living so when things don’t turn out or equipment fails, it costs me money. A lot of money. Which in turn causes me stress, and then can spiral into despair quickly if I don’t get a handle on my thoughts.
I had a major studio fail earlier this month and it really threw me off. My mug pre-orders need to be completely redone and I lost over 2 weeks of work to hairline cracks. Working with clay is never a guarantee. Trying new things takes time to master and when you think you've got it figured out, you don't. I spent 6 months working through design iterations and was confident that I knew how to make them consistently. Nothing like a good dose of reality to set me back in my place. I keep having to remind myself that if it were easy, everyone would be making them.
After emailing the news to all my customers who had been patiently waiting, I pulled myself back together after that disappointing week and got back to work. All I can do is move forward and try again, right? The response from everyone was so nice and encouraging and I’m grateful for the uplifting support. So I got back in the studio and was feeling energized to make the mugs anew. After a few hours of solid work flow, thinking my troubles were behind me, my potters wheel died on me with a big boom! I was in the middle of throwing when the electronics exploded with a dramatic bang!
I was stopped in my tracks, again.
My immediate thought was that the universe was telling me to stop working with clay. I got up and walked away. I felt so deflated. Of course, I’m not going to quit but it was my gut reaction. After assessing the damage and repair costs, I bought a brand new potters wheel today.
Working with clay has taught me to overcome perfection and get more comfortable with unexpected loss. But it’s hard. I’m not perfect, but I do identify as a perfectionist. I can be hard on myself. I can overwork and overthink. It’s arduous for me to try new things. I can quickly blame myself for setbacks out of my control. I can be slow to pivot or adjust because everything needs to be just right.
Perfectionism definitely holds me back. As I get older I can better recognize the pitfalls, but it can still be difficult to remove myself from those internalized thought patterns. I do push myself to be better and in some ways, being a perfectionist has gotten me where I am today. I don’t think perfectionism is 100% bad though. I do think it is a problem when you hold other people to unattainable standards, but for personal growth, sometimes that urge to truly improve and to obsessively push your skills further is what your craft needs in order to take it to the next level.
There’s a fine line between what’s helpful and what’s harmful and it can be tough to acknowledge when it’s no longer serving me. Those mugs that I previously mentioned that have to be redone might fall somewhere right at that edge as most folks can’t even see the hairline crack that I’m describing. Is it my own expectations that I’m not fulfilling or is the work truly not good enough? People often comment on how even and symmetrical everything is, how “perfect” all my cups and bowls are. But to me, it’s far from the truth. My work will never ever be perfect, it’s physically impossible, and I don’t want it to be either. Having some kind of remnant of the hand be visible in what I make will always be important to me.
With that being said, I also love imperfections! I love the unintended beauty that I cannot foresee. I don’t love something that is poorly made, but I can appreciate a well crafted piece that has unique qualities that showcase the hand at work. I’m not ok with a wonky pot just for the sake of being one-of-a-kind, but if there’s intention behind the looseness then I’m all for it.
I had plans to write about something different this month, but it did not feel genuine to ignore my mishaps. This newsletter might not be the most cohesive or helpful, but it’s how I’m operating at the moment so it’s a true reflection. I want to share all sides of my little biz, even when things get ugly. There have been plenty of highs while running the studio this year, but these past few weeks have been a struggle to power through. Among other miscalculations, cancellations and mini home disasters, I freaked out about how the holidays are right around the corner, and for a small business like mine, that can be a lot of pressure. I feel crazy behind and cried at the thought of having to redo so much work when I should be planning ahead instead of making up for past mistakes. Perhaps I should take my own advice and read the 3 Things I do Every Month.
While August has been hard, it’s still my favorite time of year. It’s my birthday month and I can always find tiny joys of summer flowers growing in my garden, eating home grown vegetables and making time for beach walks. But, I’m hoping September has some ease to offer.
Grounded in play, Clayfulness is a newsletter exploring what it means to be a small business with transparency. This is a place where you’ll find failures and victories from my studio practice, how I stay motivated and when I’m not. This is more than a monthly word exercise for myself, but a space to understand what this little business is and where it wants to go. I love reflecting and thinking about the future, but writing in the present moment can capture what I'm really thinking and I'm getting better at it the more I do it. I call it Clayfulness because clay is the background of my life, but there's also more. My life is full of other endeavors and being playful is one of my core principles in everything I do.
This is a free offering but I've allowed myself to receive payment for this if you can support it or if you've gotten value from my work over the years. It's not necessary to pay to read, but very much appreciated. "Selling" does not come naturally to me, but I think about this newsletter as a personal contribution I've put out in the world. I invite you to become a paid subscriber or to become a founding member at whatever price you like. I’m so grateful for your presence here.
Thank you for this letter, reminding me it's not just me right now going through setbacks. I am job-hunting and just got passed over for a job I thought I had nearly in the bag as the bank account dwindles and I'm near to borrowing money to keep the bills paid. So, I totally understand the time and financial stress.
I also know that, for better or for worse, Mercury and Venus are both in retrograde right now, along with a lot of other planets, so it's back to the drawing board for all of us right now in some way or another. (Astrology is my other love.) Anyway, hang in there!
Thank you for sharing so honestly about your mishaps, about things not going how you wanted them to and how you’ve been dealing with the discomfort. I find it very beautiful, encouraging, and also helpful, egoistically speaking - as a founding member of the perfectionists club I am well acquainted with the big feelings that arise when I feel out of control of a certain outcome, but also when I’m not satisfied with how I’m acting in the world/where I’m at in my life. I find some deal of ambition and healthy desire for improvement positive (maybe even necessary), but what is “healthy”? When does this dynamic become harmful instead? I think most of the times the line is very thin... What I’ve observed in my own life is that it often becomes something paralyzing, it translates into defaulting into overthinking mode instead of an energizing force that kindly invites me to do better. Maybe what counts is that we keep moving the needle forward, even when the movement is imperceptible?