For this third day of the JEMA, I’d like to evoke a new step of the creation process, this awaited rendez-vous with the clay and its infinite potential, for my greatest happiness.
Back to clay…
Then the day comes, when, in front of my table, the idea has to sprout, grow, bloom, become. The Impatience is still there, to such an extent that I always take a loaf of clay with me during my stays in Brittany in case the idea suddenly flows from my fingertips.
Seated at my table, my boards and my small tools at hand, two bowls, one with water and the other with slurry on my right side, no, on my left, under the lights of my two workshop lamps, I get to work, to the sounds of my music always there.
It’s a magic moment, alone in front of this humid loaf of clay, my drawing not so far away, just in case, but I’m not looking at it. That’s how this grege loaf of clay, humid and smelly for some, taken out of its plastic, comes to life.
My hands, my fingers, my arms seem guided. I create my piece, I give it its shape, I mold and pummel it, scratch it and even tear it up. It’s soft, sometimes joyous, happy or even violent, brutal.
We know each other very well. The clay is just as alive as I am, but sometimes with a nasty temper. If I don’t respect it, it’ll have its own way maybe even take revenge !
It’s a dialogue, a conversation between the two of us.
This clay acts a lot like me…
