This Month at Green River Pottery: January 2009
The News and the Weather
I’m used to listening to the radio while I work. Usually in the morning I catch a variety of news analysis shows—since I don’t have a TV the radio is my source for finding out what’s going on in the world. Ever since 9/11, a day when I just happened to switch on the radio early and heard about the terrible events as they unfolded, I always switch the radio on first thing, when I walk in the studio door, just to make sure everything’s alright with the world. I live out in the country—something could happen and I’d never know.
My first hours in the studio each day are devoted to little tasks: preparing clay, trimming the previous day’s work, lifting the plastic on drying pieces to see if they’ve cracked. I listen to interviews, analysis, commentary, as I shuffle around the room. By afternoon, though, I’m ready to really concentrate. I’m sick of hearing peoples’ voices on the radio and I put on a CD: something long, without vocals. I start actually working—making new pieces. The world drops away, and time seems to stop. I finally get caught up in what I’m doing. Why did I waste all morning listening to Fresh Air? I think to myself. Why didn’t I put Miles Davis on when I first came in to work?
Recently, I’ve been doing just that. I’ve been skipping the news. It is so dire! The analysis of the economy is awful. It is scary. It is depressing. I’ve been listening to it every morning now since September, and it keeps getting worse. In Santa Fe, galleries on Canyon Road are closing. The hotels are empty of visitors, tourists, shoppers—my customers.
What are my choices as I decide how to react to this news?
‘Decide’ isn’t really the word. Being an artist isn’t something I decided to do—I got thrown into it, pushed into it. Stopping now, out of fear that people won’t buy my work, isn’t really a choice—it doesn’t make sense—that would be like not kayaking the Grand Canyon because you’re afraid of the rapids. Of course you’re afraid! That’s part of the deal.
Really, my only choice is to turn off the radio. To get deeper into my work. To put more time in, to make pieces that are bigger and more meaningful…to put on Miles Davis first thing in the morning, not wait, not check in to see if everything is alright with the world. It’s not.
Theo Helmstadter
Chimayó NM
January 23 2009
