I remember the first time at the pottery wheel.
Back in 1985 maybe, a Capitol Hill (District of Columbia) 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.
In 2019 I set up work space at our place in Berkeley Springs, West Virginia, in a hut built by super partner and diehard carpenter, William. The Ice House close by provides warm community and market for creative types. I have also recently worked at District Clay in the Langdon neighborhood of Washington, DC, a well-equipped facility filled with an amazing community of dedicated clay people.
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.
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.
Watershed Clayworks 
It’s exciting to read your pieces require stamps of authenticity. If you want me to write “cease and desist” letters to the potters copying your work, just say the word.
Nice. So far the copying is more flattery than criminal.