I’ve been doing pottery since 1998.  It started as something to do when I first moved to Colorado and didn’t know very many people.  I started off learning how to throw pots on the wheel.  After a few years, I wasn’t much better than when I started.  I was constantly making bottom too thin or getting them off center.  I couldn’t make anything very tall or big and heaven forbid I try to make a plate.  This was the point where I stared hand building.  That’s all I’ve done since.  Over the years, I’ve come to a style all my own and I love making things.  Now, I make small raku boxes and vases.  I’ve had my work in a couple of galleries over the years.  Everyone loves my stuff, but I hardly ever sell anything.  For years, pottery was my weekly escape from the engineering world.  It was my feminine side allowed to be creative and flow a little.  I stopped making pottery about six months ago.  I have quite a bit of work and don’t want to make more just to store it.  This weekend I’m doing an art show in Salida with my friend, Lisa.  I barely sold anything today.   I was hoping to sell a lot and not have to store it when I leave.  But that’s not what’s happening.  I’m having trouble seeing what the point is.  Why am I here this weekend?  Creating art for a living doesn’t seem like the job for me right now.  I keep looking for a meaning or purpose.  Am I here to meet someone that will be important in my life?  Am I here to help Lisa?  Is this a lesson in frustration?  Is this supposed to help trigger my money issues, my issues with not enough, for me so I can work on them?  If I was more grounded, would my work sell?  I noticed all day that I was not present.  I’d try to ground and then notice a few minutes later that I wasn’t. 

(c) all rights reserved Kimberly Fiore