The Question of Price

My pots are vessels for nourishment but also for my spiritual exploration. My surfaces are borrowed from folk traditions, reflecting my search through the past for balance and harmony. In college I was concerned with challenging the idea that the feminine is synonymous with weakness and fragility. But I've arrived at the next step, traits of vulnerability and nourishing that have been relegated under the moniker of women's work are actually the most challenging spaces to dwell in. Cynicism is easy, hope and trust come at the price of frequent heartbreak.

I look to the Mingei Movement beginning in 1920's Japan and the Arts and Crafts Movement in 19th century Europe. Both were concerned with the hegemony that industrialization brings, both concerned with making good art and handcrafted items available to people of all incomes and preserving the traditions that provide livelihood to folk artists.

I am captivated by social responsibility and want to follow in the footsteps of Warren Mackenzie. Can that model ever work? Does that model collapse once a potter reaches a certain level of fame and success? How can I incorporate a sliding scale or a pay-what-you-think-it's-worth? It's a very dangerous risk, but so is loving, listening, sharing, or showing compassion. We're afraid of being taken advantage of, at the end of the day it’s our family on the line. The consumer is trained to find the cheapest price and the best deal for their household and cannot afford to think about the person on the other end.

What is the answer? I search for a mentor.