You know... I had a quirky realization this morning as I poured my coffee into my Kristin Pavelka mug. While overall, my sentiments about the southwest and this strange new city are very, very good, I do have my moments where I realize my life has changed drastically in the last month. My friends are all hundreds of miles away... All of them. I have no studio to run off to for a creative kick in the butt. And the art culture in this city is so different from back home and, truth be told, a little more hidden then I'm used to.
Yesterday all these thoughts backed-up a bit and the result was a case of homesickness. It wasn't too bad, but the thought of living away from my city by the bay for so long unsettled me for a while.
Yet this morning, when I opened my cupboard and looked up at my collection of charming handcrafted mugs, the strangest thing happened. I felt right back at home. As I lifted the curvy green mug with the orange-centered flowers from the back of the shelf, I immediately felt the comfort of my little hobbit hole back in San Francisco. And it's not just the way the mugs look, but the feel of each one in my hand that I have become so familiar with over the last year and a half. And the shape of the lip as a warm drink passes over mine. And the way the grounds from the crumby french-press look when they get trapped at the bottom of each different mug.
I think this is one of the reasons I am so in love with ceramics, and pottery in particular. When objects are hand-crafted, like the ones in my cupboard, they're imbued with a type of character that makes them more of a friend then just a mug. It may sound silly, but I guarantee I am not the only one who feels this way.
I like when artists really embrace this quality of their creations. Have a read at Michelle Summer's blog, where she talked about this recently. Then tell me what you think. Do you have relationships with some of your pots, or other handmade objects in your home?
