What Are You Noticing?
People often describe working with clay as mindful.
I've found myself wondering what that actually means.
It's an idea I've heard many times over the years, but I've never been convinced it's simply about having a quiet mind. I've wrestled with technical problems while mentally answering emails, wondering how I'm going to eat more plants, and calculating how long I have before the studio dog starts tapping her toes for biscuits, a walk or a cuddle.
Recently, I heard someone describe mindfulness not as relaxation, but as paying closer attention to the decisions we make.
It resonated because I'd asked myself something similar four years ago when I stopped drinking alcohol. What changed wasn't my willpower. It was paying attention to how I felt afterwards, not just in the moment.
Since then, I've found myself wondering whether the same is true in the studio.
Perhaps mindfulness isn't something clay gives us. Perhaps it's something making gives us more opportunities to practise.
Your body may be saying enough
Your shoulders have crept upwards.
Your hands have become more forceful.
The thing that felt manageable half an hour ago is beginning to irritate you.
Do you keep going because it's useful?
Or because stopping feels like giving up?
Your fingertips may know before you do
The wall is becoming too thin.
The clay is losing strength.
Another touch may make it worse rather than better.
What are your hands telling you?
Do you trust them?
The pot has changed
The clay is giving you one set of information.
The picture in your head is giving you another.
What has changed?
What is this piece asking for now?
Making isn't the same as keeping
Do you reclaim it?
Keep it?
Fire it?
Glaze it?
Making something and keeping something are not the same decision.
What are you committing to when you decide to continue?
Someone else's work catches your eye
The person opposite centres their clay first time.
Someone else has already finished trimming.
Where does your attention go?
To their work?
Or back to your own hands?
Perhaps clay simply gives us more opportunities to notice
Perhaps that's what making offers us.
An opportunity to notice.
Our bodies. Our habits. Our assumptions. The material in front of us.
Whether you have five minutes before work or several uninterrupted hours in the studio, the invitation is the same: to notice a little more.
Not every decision has to be perfect, and not every session has to be calm.
But paying attention might create a little more space before the next move.
What are you noticing?