tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post4025191120332479986..comments2023-09-04T04:59:16.747-07:00Comments on John Bauman: Paths ChosenJohn Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-74892860589751290072010-06-02T12:48:14.846-07:002010-06-02T12:48:14.846-07:00Yeah, Jim, the water's fine in the deep end.
...Yeah, Jim, the water's fine in the deep end.<br /><br /> And it isn't about the money. The money part has had it's highs and lows, but the constant is that, in addition to allowing me to put bread on the table, it's allowed me an exceptionally satisfying life for over 30 years now.John Baumanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-72475016200240891522010-06-01T17:49:02.303-07:002010-06-01T17:49:02.303-07:00John, Our conversations about our respective craft...John, Our conversations about our respective crafts, different and similar in so many ways, have always been amazing and inspiring for me. I must say one thing about living in the "deep end". Still there and still alive. It was never about the money, or I would have given up exactly twenty years ago. I've been learning my craft and learning to live from it at the same time. Sometimes my arms get tired, but I think I can doggie paddle for another twenty years. Not a bad life actually,and never a dull moment.Jim and Rachel Shenkhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12854917810358837040noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-54579124241833057622010-06-01T06:40:40.189-07:002010-06-01T06:40:40.189-07:00Catching up on some reading last night, I came acr...Catching up on some reading last night, I came across the perfect quote for this post. I found it in a Ceramics Monthly profile of Charity Davis-Woodard.<br /><br /><i>"Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it."</i> <br />Johann Wolfgang von GoetheJohn Baumanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-6788307903477262302010-05-31T06:49:19.797-07:002010-05-31T06:49:19.797-07:00Rick,
I think that what you say is true -- that i...Rick,<br /><br />I think that what you say is true -- that is, it's unlikely that creative people would ever <i>not</i> just jump right in. It's our nature.<br /><br />Carter,<br /><br />I think I like that. Just because one is not making one's <i>sole</i> livelihood from pottery, the extent to which sales validate the work that <i>is</i> sold isn't necessarily diminished. That's a good thing to think about.<br /><br />Thanks for the thoughts and the continued discussion, guys.John Baumanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-26452330012609287132010-05-31T06:11:29.601-07:002010-05-31T06:11:29.601-07:00I had to break my long winded response into two pa...I had to break my long winded response into two parts yet again. Your questions are just so provocative I can't help myself!<br /><br />So, I think you are right to define the question in terms of creativity relating to pressures of the deep end. For me personally, one of the very few pearls of wisdom I was granted in school was from a visiting instructor who observed that it is perhaps uncommon if not rare that a potter will make his/her entire income just on selling pots. Quite often there is a need to supplement this with teaching, doing workshops, and sadly also getting a job outside of clay work. All of these other options take some of the pressure off the next kiln load, and that breathing space can be used to experiment in ways that are simply not available where every dollar is already counted for every pot made. Experimental work sitting on a shelf for a few years is a luxury at best, an abomination at worst. But the less you are counting on selling your work the less those negative overtones associate with experimentation.<br /><br />After grad school I plunged into a 40-45 hour a week job that drained any creative impulse from my being. It took a long while to pick up some clay again, and for the next several years it was only part time and the stuff I was making should have embarrassed me more. But at least I was back at it and having fun being creative again. When I quit that job I had already started teaching clay classes, so the pressure to sell pots was not as immediate or constraining as it might otherwise have been. Until only the last few years I would say that a significant portion of my pots have been mediocre but I feel that I get them right more often than not these days. Interestingly, I have found that I am never the best judge of what another person needs in their home. So even the work I dislike or have moved well beyond can wind up on my display and find a new home somewhere. Although I recognize the 'professionalism' in having a tight display I am simply not a tight potter and my customers are far more varied than the odd ball production I sell. If someone likes this one pot I made enough to take it home with them, who am I to argue with that?<br /><br />So I guess part of my answer is also that I am still developing, still experimenting, and that surviving "the deep end" also involves learning different strokes, not just adapting the stroke you already know. If you want to extend the metaphor I would say my job teaching is one hell of a life preserver. If it is a question of only sink or swim, most folks might be expected to doggy paddle for the rest of their days. And yet swimmers learn the backstroke and breaststroke. Do we potters merely need a flotation device or some swimming lessons to better navigate the deep end? Would we sink if we mixed in a new stroke every hundred paddles? Would it all be jeopardized by doing one unfamiliar thing every once in a while? Is the possibility of one failed stroke a threat to everything we will ever do in the future? Is it only our lack of curiosity that holds us back? On the other hand, confidence and satisfaction in knowing what you know can be self sustaining and is NOT a bad thing. I should stop there....carter gillieshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12744265678233135968noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-889127248245653962010-05-31T06:05:11.218-07:002010-05-31T06:05:11.218-07:00Hi John,
You ask another thought provoking questi...Hi John,<br /><br />You ask another thought provoking question. I think you touch on my answer when you relate how this dynamic was influenced for you by the actual amount of time you had for experimenting. Being thrown in the deep end doesn't always permit the kind of risk taking that coincides with following one's muse. The more finances depend on mistake free potting the more we are bound by repeating what already works. It can even be a something of a tautology: I make only what sells and the only stuff that sells is what I already make. Could be a self fulfilling prophecy involved in there somewhere too....<br /><br />Sometimes in that position we can still allow ourselves the opportunity to fine tune and innovate, but often only within parameters that are fairly safe. It is incredibly brave for someone whose livelihood depends entirely on the next kiln load to throw it all into doubt by trying something entirely new. I'm not so sure that is a smart thing and it either speaks of great confidence and self assurance or of foolishness and folly. Sometimes also we are stopped dead in our tracks and the pressure to make a living is solved by hammering out the same old same old ad nauseum. A lot of jobs are like that, and not every craft-making artist even has a muse to follow.<br /><br />I suppose that the less the burden of financial return the easier it is to grant one's self permission to experiment. This challenge is not always taken up by everyone in this position and it becomes more an issue of the artist already knowing what he/she wants to say with their medium. And this is an entirely acceptable and praiseworthy position. There simply is no curiosity for that which lies on the other side of the fence. The mystery is not intriguing and surprise is no more welcome than a vegetarian faced with a hamburger. Some artists are merely confident in what they know while others thrive on uncertainty and on living on the edge. Different strokes, I suppose....carter gillieshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12744265678233135968noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-6561201096233025702010-05-28T19:34:48.431-07:002010-05-28T19:34:48.431-07:00John, while I haven't made a living as a playe...John, while I haven't made a living as a player for much longer than I care to relate, as far as life in general goes - just diving in and going for it is pretty much all I've ever done. Sometimes I think I'm just too lazy to put the pre-work in - others, I think I know inside, that anything I've ever really learned, I learned by getting my hands dirty, and that's the only way it stuck. And I have certainly re-invented some wheels over the years, but it all worked out in the end.<br /><br />Good post.Rick Waughnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-77758556080149962272010-05-28T08:12:26.521-07:002010-05-28T08:12:26.521-07:00Point well taken. Definitely makes one think...Point well taken. Definitely makes one think...Mr. Younghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00696214535601007261noreply@blogger.com