Mississippi is full to the brim with potters and pottery lovers. And I’m no exception. But I collect pottery from all over the state, not just from the Delta as some purists won’t do.
Yep, we Mississippians love us some mud – maybe because our lives are so entwined with the muddy Mississippi River and all its tributaries that flow through our state.
In fact, scientists say that around 99% of the human body is comprised of oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon, calcium, and phosphorus, while sulfur, potassium, sodium, chlorine, and magnesium make up most of the remainder – with all 11 being classified as essential elements and all 11 reportedly found in the mud of the Mighty Mississippi.
So, there you go! It’s all about the mud … Mississippi mud, to be exact.
Now, I’ve always known this truth instinctively, and as I said, I love collecting pottery pieces from around our state. It’s a hobby that I inherited from my mother – along with half of her extensive pottery collection.
But unlike my sister, (who inherited the other half of Mom’s pottery), I’ve never been brave enough to try my hand at slinging some Mississippi mud on a potter’s wheel. Not until recently.
Several months after the death of our son Chris, I half-heartedly mentioned to my husband that I needed some new hobbies or pursuits to occupy my mind and my time. Without hesitation, he suggested pottery.
I practically snorted because everyone who knows me will attest to the fact that my middle name is not and never, ever has been GRACE. Some would even say I am downright clumsy and totally uncoordinated. (I didn’t even qualify for my own father’s basketball team.)
That’s exactly why I laughed at my husband’s suggestion, which in turn, offended him. He gently rebuked me and said that maybe something daunting and impossible for me to imagine might be just what my grieving heart needed to do a little healing.
Remorsefully, I called one of Chris’ childhood friends whose mother is a well-known potter in North Mississippi. (I have several pieces of her gorgeous pottery scattered throughout my house. But sadly, I do not have any of her beloved handprint pieces.) I asked him if she still gave pottery lessons, and he told me that she had not done that in several years.
I probably sighed a whole lot louder than I meant to, and he probably mistook my sigh for my disappointment rather than my actual sense of relief.
So, he paused a moment and added, “Let me give her a call, Mrs. Joy, and see what she says.”
I thanked him and assured him that if she could not find time for lessons, I completely understood. And after I had not heard from him in a few weeks, I pretty much forgot about our conversation.
Until, one day, my phone rang, and my caller ID read, “Crossroads Pottery.” With a mix of excitement and apprehension, I answered the phone, and as they say … the rest is history.
For the past few months, I have been having the absolute time of my life learning about making pottery from Shelia Hall. She is the epitome of patience and joy, and oh, the laughter I have shared with this precious lady. Sitting at her wheel and playing with mud has truly been a healing process for me. (Yes, I know; my husband was right. He usually is, but don’t tell him I said so.)
One of the funniest things that happened in my time at Crossroads Pottery was when we discovered that I could NOT use my right hand to raise the walls of items I was working on. It was so strange – until I recalled that I was born left-handed, but my parents worked to switch my dominant hand to my right one.
Somehow, I think that my basic instinct when touching the clay was for my brain to default to its original usage. So, there you have it! Joy Lucius is a left-handed potter who seems to turn every project into a small bowl. No plates or vases or pitchers for me! Just bring on the salsa and chips!
Even though I will probably never be listed among Mississippi’s great potters, I have made my share of mud-borne treasures. And in the process of my mudslinging, I have had a few revelations beyond my left-handed reversal.
Here are a few of the best lessons I learned in my pottery classes:
For one, life is short, so go for it. If you woke up this morning and are still breathing, God has a good plan for you. So take the risk, be brave, be adventurous, and try something you never thought you could do.
Second, new friends are precious, and they have so much to offer you, things you desperately need. And they are out there, simply waiting for you to say hello and start a conversation. Again, be brave, be adventurous, and find some new people to love.
Three, mud is magic. Remember what it was like to play in it as a child? Well, the fun has not changed. Find a pottery class and sling some mud. And send me some pictures of your handmade treasures. Or better yet, make me a piece of your Mississippi pottery.
Lastly, it all comes back to the mud. It always has, and it always will. As the prophet Isaiah stated, we are simply clay in the Potter’s hand.
But I tend to think that the Master Potter used Mississippi Mud for his finest creations. My precious new friend Shelia Hall at Crossroads Pottery in Baldwyn, Mississippi, is proof of that.
If you don’t believe me, check out her work at facebook.com/crossroadspottery.
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