The Creator and the Clay

As a young college art student I studied and fell in love with the art of Raku. I was transformed by its humble and natural process;  a type of pottery which is so unpredictable and yielded so many wonderful unplanned cracks and patterns on the surface of each piece that I would create.  After working the clay, shaping it and firing it so it became a bisque, we would take our piece outdoors and place each in big old metal barrels already burning inside with combustible materials such as pine needles, pine cones,  and then would be covered with metal lids in an attempt to control the amount of oxygen permitted inside.  The smoke that escaped from the firing would sting my eyes, as we waited in the winter sun for this second firing, prayng our piece would survive and not shatter inside the burning drum. One could hear some explode, as they would not tolerate the shock of being heated to a high heat very quickly.  Once it got fired in this manner, we would immediately remove each piece with giant tongs and  dunk the red glowing pieces into a  barrel of water; this would instantly stop the chemical reaction. The smoke would leave any portion of the unglazed surface black.  Each creation would be devoid of pretentiousness, each was unique, and each were brought to life through the creators ability to “enjoy the freedom”, which is what Raku means.

The interesting thing about Raku ceremonial vessels is that they are not utilitarian pieces because they don’t hold liquids well, due to their essence, they eventually it begins to leak. According to the Zen Masters, this art form must be looked at with a different attitude. It is valued because it is said that the Spirit of the Creator is embodied in its form. It is traditionally left unglazed (naked) because its beauty is expressed in this nature, and if one reflects on the form of each Raku piece it will enlighten us to the rhythm of life.

I have never forgotten the process of Raku and it is easy to see how people trying to make sense of their existence would have used the metaphor of the potter and clay. In my own small way, I have reflected on my own Raku experience and it’s analogy for my own life. Here is my reflection:

v  I, creator, pounded the clay, keeping it moist I was able to shape it

A gray form emerged.  I loved it into being.

Pinching the edges I added texture.

 I cradled it in my hands.  The form was good.

But, it was not beautiful yet.

v  I, creator, laid  the form in  a  burning manger of needles from nearby trees

Flames overtook the form.  I allowed it to disappear.

Swirling smoke consumed it all.

I waited patiently.  The sweet aroma was good.

But, it was not perfect yet.

v  I, creator, lifted up  a perfectly  blackened piece  from the ashes

Into water the form now surrendered. I transformed its essence.

Purifying itself once more through the elements

I plunged in after it.  With thanksgiving I rose it up into the air

My work now completed.

It was good.

v  I, clay, am thankful for my existence.

I could not have fashioned myself with such care

I would have not had the strength to be transformed by your creative fire

I would not have had the wisdom to know dying in your waters  purifies me

Alone, I would not have understood that all of your creation is perfected and completed

In your in your grace,

You are Goodness and love.