First I must start by saying you are very lucky I cannot write these Substacks with my glorious fountain pen collection: If I could, your inboxes would be inundated!


When I was in my late teens to early twenties, I was determined to be a potter. The visceral experience of the mud sliding through the hand, the centering of the pile of clay on the wheel, and the functionality of the piece when done centered my scattered, “wanting to create” spirit. And now, as I make my living painting, how more sustaining it would be to work in a medium that needs replacing, rather than one that requires new walls for added pieces!
Other than coming up with the ideas of a ceramic jigsaw puzzle and a harp, for which I created these ideas, pottery was, for me, about creating, not about being creative. It was never about the, “I have this idea, this feeling I want to communicate, what if….”s. I felt better at the end of the day if I had made something tangible, functional and somewhat aesthetic. I am a reactor. I have a need. I then look to how I can fulfill that need. My grandmother gave me an old mandolin. It needed a case. I had basket-making reeds, so I made a case. Square dancing became a “thing,” so I needed a dress. I bought yards and yards of cheap material to make a dress that swirled and do-si-doed. Those creations by and large have disappeared into dumpsters or Borrowers burrows. But they fulfilled a need.
But these functional creations were not in and of themselves creative; rather, they were a reaction to an extrinsic need. Making do with what I had to fulfill a need was the creative act. So why did I end up gravitating to a medium that has no functional need? I wonder about that. I am, in many ways, a very concrete person. I was raised a Quaker, and so the intrinsic need to seek Truth is deeply rooted in me. I think that is why I gravitated to painting. A painter cannot be afraid of the Truth no matter what it tells us, nor can we be afraid of the path we must take to find it. It is our nature to unpeel the layers to find the Middle of the Onion. In pottery the Truth was right there. The pot is centered or it is not. Again this is about my use. I have seen some truly creative potters, bakers, gardeners people who have mastered their craft and taken it beyond.
Querying is the path for the Quaker. Ask questions and never make excuses to cover for perceived deficiencies. Get to the Middle of the Onion by peeling away unquestioned paradigms and narratives. Is the pavement really darker than the sky? Why is the shadow in the snow purple? How many values are in that shadow under the car? Where do the petals of a sunflower grow from, or a peony’s? What does this difference reveal about their character? Why do my horizons dip to the left? What do I do in order to draw a straight line? Why does my depiction of the rock look wishy- washy and not solid?
I look out the window at the March garden… I am a colorist ( can you tell from my fountain pen collection?), so why might I even consider painting this scene of browns -- warm browns, cool browns, gray browns – in which the only spots of color are those of the objects I have placed there? What is the Truth, the intrinsic nature, of this scene that compels me to say to you, “Hey look at this?” By peeling these layers away, I begin the journey of building and, yes, being creative, not just creating.
May we all not just create—mix, form, and bake--that batch of cookies but, better yet, be creative in the choices we make in order to bake the best lip-smacking, I-don’t-know-how-I-did-it treat possible.
Share your creative creations!
What is in the Middle of your Onion?