The great thing about doing something every day, or doing 100 cups on a wheel, or conscious (conscious is very important!) focus on any one thing, is that you get from the outside of it to the spirit of it.

The shape of the Wylde Woman in this coloring page and the ones here and here (drawn and finished) started first in clay.  Wylde Woman as Gaiais one of my newest pieces.  But the energy of Wylde Woman has been moving toward me for about 15 years now, starting first as a poem that grew into a suite of poems – an entire story of poems – back in the mid to late 90s (they did not come all at once, but when they were finished coming it was obvious they belonged together).  It is called Prayer for the Living and can be found under the “blog” tab on my navigation bar above, starting here.

AFter the poem came the picture that is now the Wylde Women logo in my right side bar.

After that came work in clay called Wymyn (I through IX).

Nothing is lost to creative energy.  When one area is quiet, another is moving.  Something goes underground into the unconscious, gets mixed, and new things are born.

 In a post from March 26, 2007, I talk about this energy thing.  If we listen to our inner voice, if we follow our inner feelings, our passion will lead us and where it takes us is where we are meant to go.  Following our passion makes us who we truly are, with no “shoulds,” or “oughts.” It is a map that leads us out of the maze of cultural molding.  Following your passion is the birth canal to a serene and centered self.

I have learned not to fight this.  To fight where the energy wants to go is just crazy making.  Ultimately, it will go where it wants.  This is the marvelous beauty of clay.  I am a midwife.  Some days it’s pretty spectacular. 

There is a process here that brings me back time and again to myself.  I have an idea (not necessarily to do with clay; an idea about where I’m going, say).  I head out.  I almost get there, or, in some cases, arrive just where I thought I wanted to be only to have something shift.  Because I have become attached to a particular outcome of a particular idea, that shift isn’t always welcome.  It has taken me a long time to recognize that in the interstices of transition, great gifts are born.  Clay teaches me to take a breath, not get rattled, and wait patiently for what is trying to emerge.  It is an on-going process.  Some days I remember to take the breath.  Other days I remember, but only after I’m red in the face from exertion without taking a breath. 

 When Husband and I worked together in live sound – loading in our PA system, doing a gig, and loading out again (one a night, sometimes after one in the day) – he used to always have to remind me to breath when I was lifting.  Same thing.  And with Husband, at the end of the gig, when we were wrapping up microphone cords and putting things away, we would always get giddy.  Some of it was exhaustion.  Some was knowing the hard part was over and we could rest.  These are the things I try to remember when change sparkles in the air. 

Wylde Women’s Wisdom

Make no mistake.  Serene does not mean unchaotic.  It means understanding the process and flowing into it instead of fighting it.  It does not mean easy, but it is easier when you understand that process.

A clay vessel that has not been through the fire cannot hold much without disintegrating.  It is the fire that creates the sacred container and gives the clay the power it needs to serve itself and others.  Tammy Vitale