Today as we perused handcrafted items at the Sequim farmers market, I noticed something very unique to pottery. As we looked at pieces in one particular booth, the artist encouraged us to pick up the pieces, remarking "they are meant to be held and touched." It was not the first time we had heard this today- a lady at a previous booth selling pottery had, moments before, told us the exact same thing.
As my mother mentioned wanting to take a pottery class, Marla echoed her sentiments recalling pottery she had done in high school and the art and skill it took. The potter continued to speak fondly of what he loved about creating each piece. He carefully picked up one last bowl as we were about to leave and with the most inviting gesture handed it to Marla. "Hold this one," he said. Marla noted how light it was with amazement at it's perfectly tapered and evenly thin sides. As he described to her how sturdy it was and how it had been formed and hand tapered I noticed the soft ridges. Ridges formed by his own hands carefully and purposefully. He had created this bowl. He was not only it's maker but he had touched it with his own two hands leaving marks and ridges on it's surface specific only to his own handprints. He spoke tenderly of each one's uniqueness and he was attached to them, for they were his creation.