Got home after a day of unloading, cleaning up, catching up with old friends who came for the opening and sale. Unwrapped the pots, fondling and looking at them for another long time. Knowing I haven't stop smiling since the first pot came out of the kiln, all of a sudden feeling deflated because I realize I can not do this alone. They're not really my own works no matter how much I want to claim. A big part of them is team work. 55 hrs of non-stop stoking, not speaking of the effort of mindful loading (what shape/size/glaze/clay go up/down/back/front/which side face forward at what angle) while having a picture of how hot ash fly in mind, and months of wood gathering and preparation. Plus don't forget hundreds of hours to make the works. No, it doesn't make any economic sense. No, it doesn't look bright, smooth or shiny (PERFECT? like most commercial pots). No, it's not for someone who's in a hurry.
So why? have you ever question why Mom want to make you old fire soup? Why some people want to ride their bike slowly anyway/ everywhere? Why home schooling? Why gardening?
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