The Dark Before Dawn

I rode to work (the day job) early this morning. The sun hadn't come up over the Cascades yet and the streets were empty. The air was warm and the smells of early spring permeated my bike route. I felt gloriously alone in a city set to take off, all those alarm clocks ticking closer to their mark and the people rolling and beginning to wake.

I realized that this is the same feeling I have when I'm working on a new body of work or gearing up for a show or sale. There's a quiet, solitary time before everything springs into motion. I love that period, when it's just me and the work, where all my new ideas are still secrets. It's an intimate relationship we potters have with our work, it even sounds intimate when we talk about shaping a form. We use words like belly, shoulder, foot and lip to describe the curves and anatomy of our pieces.

This morning was one of those rides where I knew I was moving in the right direction. I could feel the sun, even in the darkness.