I remember the first time at the pottery wheel.

Back in 1985 maybe, a Capitol Hill housemate and I were watching TV when a brief few seconds showed hands on clay at a pottery wheel. “You’d like that,” my housemate said. I was already an adult, unlike a lot of folks who try this at summer camp or high school, but on the next Tuesday night, at the esteemed Eastern Market Pottery*, I sat at the turning wheel with a ball of clay, and it was love at first spin.

I like the power of the wheel, and the usefulness of functional pieces. The greatest joy is to see the stuff I’ve made not on a shelf somewhere, but holding soup or a sandwich about to be eaten.

I have worked at a few of the Washington, DC, studios since then; Jill Hinckley’s in Kalorama; The Clay Queen, across the river in Alexandria, Va.; now at the newer and stimulating art space at District Clay in Langdon.

Why “Watershed” Clayworks? 

Find yourself on a map that ignores political boundaries and streets and roads, but shows natural landforms.  The location of the water that runs downhill to you, then runs downhill away, is where you really live. In all things, respect the earth.

*A historian could find a good story at Eastern Market Pottery.