Embracing Failure

I had someone reach out to me recently to thank me for my life update and share their newfound interest in making pottery. I asked them to share what they were working on, and they replied that it may not turn out well. I’ve heard this a lot over the years–it’s not very good or it didn’t work or it’s not good enough, or some version of that statement.  It doesn’t mean we can’t learn from it and be inspired by it.

Why? Because we learn from the mistakes we make and the failed pieces we create. My pottery teacher and friend, Steve Karloski, was showing how to make a cylinder in class one night, and his piece wasn’t quite long enough to fit around the form. So, he pulled out a roller to help make it a little longer so it worked. Then, one of the other students commented about what a great learning experience that small failure was to see because it taught her how to fix a problem that isn’t immediately obvious to those with less experience. I embrace moments like these–knowing it’s not perfect and to think about how to improve or do it better the next time.

In celebration of my failures, I’ll share some examples: my fox/rabbit/?, a dragon plate, and the Mountain Revisited. 

A Fox/Rabbit/?

First, this terribly mixed up and confused creature. It was meant to be a fennec fox because my kids love them, and I wanted to make something for them. It has these tall beautiful ears that help differentiate it from a regular fox. As I was making it, I created these tall, thin ears, which tall skinny things are hard to make in pottery. I fixed the legs and the snout, and I kept looking at it and thinking, something isn’t right. And it was the ears at a minimum. I needed to observe their shape a little more because it was more rabbit than fennec fox. Instead of abandoning the project, I proceeded to finish it and explore how I could glaze it and address the ears the next time. It’s a funny looking creature that’s not quite right, but I had a great time making it and I learned a lot. As I’ve made more creatures, I recognize ears in general are a place for growth. For instance, I also made a cat box and the ears weren’t right on it either.

The dragon plate. I don’t have much practice with texture or hump molds, and this plate involved both. I managed to get my dragon imprint in the middle of the plate, but it was a little short on one side, so I added a coil to extend the plate. (Sometimes I still put the texture on the wrong side, so this was a win.) I was able to clean the coil extension up when I trimmed it, so the plate was looking good. I also wanted to underglaze my dragon red, and I ended up painting outside the lines a little—another thing to fix post-bisque. Given the piece might not work, I experimented further with my glazes. It came out great except for one small flaw. I don’t know why it has the flaw, but I loved the rest of the results. So, I’ll iterate and try again.

Last, the Mountain Revisited piece is the result of going through a stack of paintings I didn’t like, finding one to paint over, and creating something new. I started a piece a few years ago where I wanted to think about architecture and play with perspective, and I got stuck. I didn’t have a reference image and ended up abandoning the painting. But I kept it with the idea that I can use the other side of the aluminum panel to do something else. I found it in my stack as I was considering what I wanted to do for a class one night, so I grabbed it. Rather than turning it over, I covered it with oil paint and started to play with my squeegee and brushes uncovering and covering, seeing where the paint would take me. My once architectural failure became this beautiful mountain piece. You can still see some of the lines from the original, and I love how they add to the movement in the piece. There were also some happy accidents in how the paint moved to create some beautiful moments in the piece. 

My ongoing lesson is to embrace failure, learn from them, play with them, turn them into something new.