How committed are you?

When I worked in partnership back in Cincinnati, Mike Frasca used to say at times “Don’t commit me, I’m already committed.”  He had a way of coming up with these little phrases that played on words and could be taken in a number of ways, but that tended to reflect some deeper truth of the situation.

I’ve been thinking of that phrase lately, and of our years together at the Spring Street Pottery.  We lived in a tough little neighborhood, in rough circumstances, and were often on the edge financially.  But we never let that get in the way of our progress in the studio.  We were committed to our craft, come hell or high water.  Well, it seems to me, based on all that I read and hear (incessantly, day after day), and have experienced in my shows of late, that we are heading for some tough times economically.  The next year or two are likely to test the mettle of those of us whose stock in trade are things not really necessary to get by in life.  How much do I, we, you, believe in what we’re doing?  Enough to say that we’re in it for the long haul?  Enough to stick to it no matter how tough it gets?

I came to the conclusion a few years ago (once and for all, I sincerely hope) that this is what I do, what I choose to do, no matter how slim the pickings get.  Let’s forget the fact that it’s all I’ve done for money for the past 30 years…forget that I’m not really trained in anything likely to pay me a living wage other than pots.  I choose this way of life, this path.  The reasons why I chose it 30 years ago are just as valid now as they were then.  The opportunity to craft my own lifestyle, to make things which I love, which reflect my values, and which go out in the world to have a meaningful conversation with their owners, is, to quote that ubiquitous TV commercial…priceless.

Making pots is a very grounding activity.  It isn’t done at warp speed.  It’s a human activity.  You must pay close attention to every phase of the process or all can go for naught.  You must, if you are serious and in this for all the marbles, bend your life around the exigencies of the studio. That makes it hard to get too separated from the things closest to you.  It’s a life based on a conception of time and place that no longer seems prevalent, or relevant in today’s world.   And that’s OK with me, because I think that today’s world is pretty unreal mostly, pretty inhumane.  I choose, I chose to be a potter because of many of the values inherent in it’s practice, not because I see myself as an artist with a voice that must be heard, or that’s what I was trained to do.  It’s a way of putting your money where your mouth is.

So, I guess I’ll be sticking with it, even if sales get slow and galleries no longer come calling.  I’ve learned how to live on very little over the years, and learned that a rich life is not about all the toys you possess or the things you control.  A rich life can be had for the price of an active mind and meaningful work.  So why try to fix it if it ain’t broke?

So, all of this ranting and raving might get you in the mind to urge me to seek counsel.  Don’t bother.  Remember, “don’t commit me, I’m already committed.”

Later…

Richard

This entry was posted on 12. November 2008 at 22:09 and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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