As an artist, the time I spend making my creations is always very intimate and personal. This time is often spent in a carefree state of playing, exploring, and expressing. But when it comes to the functional pottery I so deeply cherish making, my process is filled with feeling and planning. I take into the consideration the weight, the size, the edges, and the handles, how it will feel in use. I pay attention to details so small they are often overlooked by others.
When I bring a piece home to use, and incorporate it into the other dishes I use on a daily basis, I no longer think of these details. I never reach for a mug for my coffee and think to myself “oh, today I feel like it is a big mug, small handle day, with a wide rim, glazed in a matte finish.” Rather, I simply grab a mug, fill it with coffee and start using it. I believe good art, particularly functional art, is meant to be invisible. We bring these items into our homes, offices, etc.; we place them on the walls and incorporate them into our shelves. We bring these items into our lives, and sure, while they add something more special than a generic store-bought piece can bring, they drift into the background nonetheless. Even a painting carefully selected for a certain wall in a certain room, meant as a finishing touch or as a centerpiece, becomes a part of the room and disappears. It may stand out occasionally, but you don’t find yourself encountering that piece with the same intensity on a daily basis as you did when you first laid eyes on it.
Good art becomes a part of our lives, and in a sense it becomes invisible.