“Practice any art — music, singing dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpture, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage — no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.”

—Kurt Vonnegut

These are weird times. Difficult times. Times of divisions, disparities, misunderstandings, and broad differences of opinion about the world at home and abroad. And layered over all this, each one of us, no doubt, has our own personal troubles bubbling up now and then: financial challenges, family members who need our help, furry four-leggeds who’ve pass over that rainbow bridge, bouts of depression, grief.

My recent challenges have been health related: the dreaded Big C has reared its fearsome head; and though I’m grateful for the advances of Western medicine, friends stepping up to help every which way, and an amazing team of professionals, still… the myriad ways one must advocate for oneself in the medical vortex are daunting. Phone calls, scheduling appointments, hours on the road, lining up referrals, getting records sent to the correct places takes so much time every day. And this does not account for all the indignities one’s body suffers: being poked, prodded, dissected, examined, tested, analyzed, cut and stitched up.

After months of this, I began to wonder, “How do I regain or retain my sense of self?” In the midst of everything life gives us, from small indignities to major catastrophes, how do we keep ourselves on an even keel?

Cambium Gallery and Coffee Shop

Well, one answer was delivered to me out of the blue as a gift from a dear friend. Cadmium Gallery, 1030 Duane St. in Astoria, is co-owned and run by ceramicist Audrey Long and painter Kirista Trask. Aug. 8, this past week, marks their fourth year of existence. As anyone who’s run an art establishment knows sustaining the biz financially is a tall order. These two have done it in spades. Not only have they created a way to sustain their individual art practices, they’ve done it by creating superior art and supporting their community at the same time.

Last week I had the chance to be part of an evening of wheel throwing with little pear-shaped blobs of clay. The class taught by Audrey was eye-opening to me because I didn’t even know their gallery and coffee shop existed. Yes, coffee too — and it’s darned good coffee!

Five of us — all women friends — squatted at wheel-turning stations with towels over our laps, a small pail of water, and various ceramic tools. We listened intently while Audrey took us through the basics of wheel throwing. She went over safety issues (how not to send your clay blob spinning off its batt and across the room); basic procedures (getting that blob attached to your batt so you can begin); hand and finger positioning (don’t be afraid of that spinning batt); the wheel pedal (heel down or pedal to the metal); and at the end, clean up (no clay down the sink!).

We felt like kindergarteners; and pure joy did abound as we laughed, chatted and, with what we thought was especially witty banter, splashed our way through the evening. Audrey did her best to keep us in line — “Martha, stop touching your pot now!” — and we managed, all of us, to come out of the evening with some reasonably shaped masterpieces. (Of course, they need to be bisque fired, glazed, refired, etc.)

Centering

Making something with your hands is such a pleasure and a wonder. (I’m afraid our kids are losing this skill what with all their cell phone obsessions, though now many schools are requiring that phones be “parked” during the school day.) Even writing by hand on paper — instead of typing on my computer as I’m now doing — produces a different perhaps higher quality product. But any kind of hand-made art is worth the effort: macrame, drawing, bead or leather work, wood carving, painting, knitting, quilting, all of it. Making art is an excellent way to forget one’s worries and get grounded.

Just so, the first step of wheel-turning a piece of clay, I discovered, takes a special kind of immediate and total attention that I found completely captivating. I sat on my little stool and plopped my clay — boing — as close to the center of the batt as I could. I flattened its rounded top with the palm of my hand — bop! Then the fun begins. You must put your palms around that slippery blob and press in (with your hypothenar eminence, that muscle mass below your little finger on the palm side of your hand) then down (with your thernar eminence, the muscle pad below your thumb joint) to get it centered. The correct pressure must be applied evenly and patiently as you strive to center the clay. It takes several cycles of in and down.

I found that there can be nothing else in your mind as you do this (in fact, this is true for most art). It seems to be one of the best mind-centering devices I’ve discovered, even better than meditation for me because it’s not about “following your breath,” which seems to me like the mind monitoring the body. Centering clay on a wheel is about giving your body a very specific task that involves an intense collaboration with the mind.

The position of the body reinforces and highlights this task — legs, one on each side of the spinning wheel housing; chest and upper body bent forward so that head, with eyes forward, is directly over the spot for centering; forearms and hands cupping the clay: everything focused on getting that little piece of dirt in exactly the right spot in exactly the right density. It takes strength, positioning, mental attention, emotional and spiritual commitment to exert one’s will. Or perhaps that’s the incorrect way of thinking about it. Maybe it’s more of a cooperative effort with the clay itself — as in, “Come on little clay blob, let’s make something!”

Paws for Painting

One further note about the Cambium Gallery and owners Audrey and Kirista: they are spectacular artists. They’re young, vibrant, and doing the right things. They’ve collaborated with the Clatsop County Animal Shelter, and, last week, during art walk, they hosted in the gallery six dogs that need adoption. (Three found homes!) They even had paintings that the dogs had made. It was a “Paws for Painting” event.

I mean, really — how can things get better than that! Great coffee, superb art, a cool gallery and workshop space. And dogs! Check them out on the web (www.cambiumgallery.com) on Facebook (tinyurl.com/kynd2jzy), or Instagram (www.instagram.com/cambiumgallery). They are have also raised funds to build out a studio for ceramic artists of all persuasions at their home, Fire Elk Meadows (Kickstarter site: tinyurl.com/3ptzywk2). So if you’re interested in any of this, just drop by the gallery sometime for a cuppa and check out the art on the walls and in the drying racks. You’ll be glad you did!