It’s always the same thing.
The last few weeks have been hectic. In my head at least. Perhaps, to those not inside my head, it all looks normal and ordinary and nothing to write home about. But from here, from inside my head, I can tell you that things look stormy. Or looked. It seems to have calmed down now. Since I started the kiln at precisely 14:07, last Wednesday afternoon. And then again, for a bisque firing this time, on Sunday.
I am not a very well organised person. In my mind, there is an ongoing to do list and everywhere I look I see stuff I should be cleaning, mess I should be putting away, pots I should be making, pots I should be glazing, clothes I should be mending, pictures I should be hanging on the wall, seeds I should be sowing, flowerbeds I should be tending to, Domestika courses I should be taking, books I should be reading, Substack posts I should be writing/reading/commenting on… You get the idea.
Last month, I had the opportunity to run three workshops — one in my studio and two in town. My shelves were overflowing with pots in various stages of drying as well as some already bisqued from workshops the previous month. And my two large vases: the “forest” —
… and the sgraffito —
Neither are finished yet; the first is bisqued and ready to glaze, the second is in the cooling kiln as I write.
Also last month, work in the garden became more pressing. We went from having one veg bed to having four, the seedlings I had growing indoors needed planting out and I still hadn’t sowed broad beans. I had to sow broad beans.


It was also last month that I had the idea to look for and interview other potters on Substack. Suddenly, I was in touch with several potters, messaging people I didn’t know, inviting them to take part. It has been amazing to find all these people who love clay at least as much as I do. There are a few I still need to contact and many I still don’t know about, I’m sure, but it’s been great to connect with so many already! At the same time, all that meant writing messages and then emails, and being on the computer a lot… meaning all the things I already needed to do remained not-done.
I suffer from this thing that I can only describe as time-misconception. Every day I wake up and think of all the things I will get done that day. And I honestly believe I will get them all done. This typically includes things like cleaning, making bread, spending a few hours in the studio, finishing at least one thing that needs doing in the garden, make lunch, make dinner, take a long walk with R, and spend some meaningful time with our daughter. It may also include going shopping, writing a Substack post, reading Substack posts, exercising (“today is the day!”), reducing the pile of clothes that need mending, making another notebook, journaling, making videos, editing videos… seriously, the list goes on. And, despite the fact that almost everyday, around 2 pm, I realise there is no way in hell I’ll be able to complete even half the tasks I set myself, I do it again the next day.
So, the last few weeks were like that, but worse.
Worse, because when I look back, there was a lot of procrastinating. A lot of OH MY GOD I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO WHAT SHOULD I DO NEXT? followed by long spells of staring out the window or at the bookshelves and finding a new book to read. A lot of OH MY GOD I SHOULD BE IN THE STUDIO followed by heading out to the garden, and vice-versa.
To be fair, Easter happened and my parents were visiting… Actually that’s a rubbish excuse because my mother always helps a lot leaving me with time to do stuff I wouldn’t normally have time to do…
So, for whatever reason, there was just a lot of frustration and misdirection of energy which lead to more frustration and the feeling that days were going by and nothing was getting done.
Looking back now it wasn’t all that bad. I did sow those broad beans, I did mend a few clothes, I did make a lot of new connections here on Substack, and, in the end, I did glaze a kiln-full of pieces from the workshops and fired another bisque load (the one that is now cooling down) with the second large vase and another bunch of pieces from the last workshop.
But it was rough. Until I started the kiln. As always.
And so, the storm passed and my brain is once again at rest. Meaning, it’s back to it’s chaotic, time-agnostic self, less the stress that the studio shelves are full of works that aren’t mine and that I’m not making any new pots.
And that is where the problem lays.
And, come to think of it, it’s always the same thing.
Even when the works on the shelves are mine. I get antsy every time I reach the near-end of a making cycle, the shelves are full and there is glazing to be done. I postpone it until I can’t anymore, finally get it done, and start the kiln. When the shelves are empty, I get a sense of peace and I can breathe.
And start making once more. Fill those shelves again.
In the end, after all the storminess, calmness returned as it always does.
The garden is getting tended to. The pieces are being fired. And I can’t wait to fill those shelves up even if it means that pretty soon I’ll again be telling myself:
“It’s always the same thing”.
One amazing thing that happened during these past few days is that some of my mugs started to find their way to new homes, into caring hands. One went to a new paid subscriber1 (which is amazing in itself, I am so grateful!). Another is headed to England to the lovely
. Emily and I agreed on an exchange and I couldn’t be happier!Another cool thing is that as a result of inviting someone to be interviewed, that someone invited me to be interviewed. And I said yes, of course! More on that very soon. And, last but not least — and rather surprisingly —, I was featured on this post from
!Below are pictures of the two beakers, the only two pieces of mine in the glaze firing (if you use the Substack app you may have seen them on Notes a few days ago). I used a red clay I labelled “Sand from Jola” because it was found in the middle of a mountain of sand my neighbour — Jola — ordered for the construction of her deck. I have mentioned it before, and use it often as a slip. But I hadn’t used it to make pots yet. The clay is beautiful to work with but it is not clean. I used it anyway, just to make two pinch pots. And I am rather pleased how they turned out.




And that’s it for today. As always, thank you so much for reading. I will be back in two weeks time with another instalment of Interview with a potter — you can read the first one here if you missed it.
Until then, take good care of yourselves, and if, like me, you are somewhat time-challenged, find it in your heart to forgive yourself at the end of the day for not having completed the to-do list... I know I try to. It’s a work in progress.
xxSara
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O teu texto fez-me sorrir. Tantas coisas para fazer e o tempo tão curto!... Acho que é bom sinal não termos tempo para nos aborrecermos, poder chegar ao fim do dia e pensar: fiz muitas coisas mas não tantas quantas queria; tenho projectos para amanhã. O que é preciso combater é a frustração, é a sensação - errada - de que não se fez nada. E tu fazes muito, eu sei. Beijinhos muitos
Gosh this is all so very familiar to me! It’s the self compassion that’s so hard to find as ‘to-do’ lists get longer - but maybe what we should do is pop that at the top of every list! x