The Art of Patience: Lessons from Handbuilding a Clay Pot

I've been hand-building a clay pot for some time now, taking it slow and trusting the process. I don’t think there’s a medium that reflects life as visually as clay does. With the best intentions, I roll out the slab, gently form the shape, coil the clay, smooth and refine—but then, the next day, a crack appears! The key, I’ve learned over many years, is patience. I keep the pot under plastic, fixing the crack with magic potion, allowing it to dry slowly, giving it time to settle, and leaning into the challenges day after day. Eventually, I reach a point where I can step back and let go, trusting that the pot can stand on its own. Then there is the firing where I need to completely let go and allow for its own magic to happen.

Coiling isn’t as easy as it seems. You start by squeezing the clay into a sausage-like shape, then begin rolling it out. When you roll, use the whole hand, but don’t press too hard at first. As the coil lengthens, you’ll need to gauge when to slow down and when to speed up.

I love working with dark clay, particularly one called “Dark Matter.” I enjoy its texture and the way it invites me to appreciate its rawness. I’m not particularly interested in decoration; for me, the material should stand on its own as much as possible.

As I reflect on the process, I can’t help but see how closely it mirrors life and the experiences we face daily. Overcoming challenges, moving forward—these are the same steps we take in pottery. The wisdom of the sages often boils down to simple advice: go slowly, lean into the pain, sit with it, and wait. This is exactly what clay demands. Eventually with enough patience something beautiful, somewhat imperfect emerges.