It's funny how one dream can spark another
Three years ago I purchased my first kiln. It's a moment that most clay artists dream of for a long time. Having my own kiln really solidified in my mind that I was taking the next step in my career, that I was legitimately trying to make it as a artist. The last three years have been wonderful: no more having to transport items to the kiln only to break in transit and being able use the kiln whenever I want to fire. When my uncle and husband helped me run my 50 amp for my kiln, I thought, this is it. Now I'm really going to get my work out there!
It's three years later and I'm whittling down the last bags of clay as I'm preparing to sell my kiln. Cue everyone thinking sad thoughts. "But ... it's your dream," so many people uttering this thought at once that it took on a voice that made me take pause. Take note everyone, I've got to tell you something important. This is not sad at all. One of the things I've realized from making in my studio over the last three years and into a pandemic is that private studios are fraught with isolation. Even the most vigilant artists fall into their own traps sometimes. It's important to check in with yourself and let your dreams change. Sometimes if you are very lucky, your dreams will fuel future dreams and that's exactly what happened to me.
That 50 amp plug is literally powering my next dream, an RV sitting in my driveway. It's waiting for me to move in and set up a new way of life on wheels. Ready to take me to so many places and meet so many people that would never have graced the door to my little home studio. Three years ago when I plugged in my kiln, I would never have dreamed that the same plug which powered my kiln would be powering my future home.
Every time I unplug the RV to fire the kiln it feels like a countdown. Ten bags of clay to go; how many firings left in this Skutt kiln? I'll be getting a much smaller kiln to travel with me on this journey. It will change the way I make, the way I fire, and the way I am as an artist. Some may look on these changes as absurd, but aren't dreams always a little full of the absurd?Good dreams, anyway: the ones worth remembering.