I have begun to experiment with some 11,700 year old wild clay that I sustainably harvested along the banks of the shallows of the Hudson River. Crusted with slip, iron oxide pigments and Earth from Schoharie NY – they were first fired in my fireplace transforming their structure and color. To seal and protect them from the elements, they were then sealed with a thin coating of Cow’s milk and heated on high in the oven – the colors deepening as it warmed, the house smelling of caramel sweetness.
This wild clay is a bit tricky to work with – as you wet it to shape it, it wishes to slip between your fingers, becoming more fluid, defiantly refusing to maintain it’s man made form – it was a lovely lesson in balance. That we humans should not always force our will upon this land and it’s gifts. When I allowed the clay to take it’s shape organically, when I worked together with it to find that compromise – to allow it to be, while gently working with it in transformation – it all came together and took form. However, not in the way that I initially intended, but in a way that was even more beautiful, that changed my relationship, perception and intent of it. I was able to create something I could use in harmony with the Earth and it’s gift – though the lesson the Earth taught me during this project – may have been the more precious gift after all.