A Journey of Clay and Calm

Discovering the Artist Within

Over 40 years ago, when I was at the Royal National College for the Blind in Hereford, art became my sanctuary. Painting, in particular, drew me in. Even with my limited vision, I could still appreciate the vibrancy of colours—greens, blues, and reds that seemed to leap off the canvas. The art department became my sanctuary, a place where I could lose myself for hours in creativity. A CCTV system, which magnified images onto a monitor, helped me paint with detail, making the experience even more rewarding. 

Sculpture, however, didn’t initially capture my heart. At the time, it felt like a cliché for someone visually impaired. So, I stubbornly resisted it. But by my third year, something changed. I found myself drawn to clay and discovered how much I enjoyed sculpting. That said, I viewed sculpture and pottery as entirely different realms—connected, but not the same. 

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Rediscovering the Wheel

Fast forward to about six years ago, and Christine—my partner—and I decided, somewhat whimsically, to get a pottery wheel. Why we made that leap is still a bit of a mystery to me. I suspect Christine had gently nudged me, pointing out that I needed a hobby beyond work, TV, and radio. 

Initially, I wasn’t convinced. I’d dabbled with a pottery wheel before, but it was basic at best. With a little encouragement, a few YouTube tutorials, and advice from my pottery friend Bill, I decided to give it a proper go—or perhaps a proper spin. 

To my surprise, I loved it. I couldn’t help but wonder why I’d waited 35 years to try again. Pottery quickly became my escape—a form of meditation that demands focus and clears the mind. Oddly, for me, the process of throwing clay is more satisfying than the finished product itself.

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The Zen of Pottery

There’s something almost hypnotic about the sensation of clay spinning through your fingers as you shape it on the wheel. Some days, it feels like I’ve entered a trance. I’ll "wake up" to find a bowl in front of me, with no memory of how it came to be. 

On other days, I’ll listen to an audiobook while working. Immersed in the story, the pottery seems to take shape as if by magic. 

Pottery has become a team effort for Christine and me. I throw the pots, and she catches them. Christine takes on the glazing, treating the raw pieces like a canvas and adding her own creative flair.

 

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Embracing the Unpredictable

Pottery isn’t an exact science. Things go wrong—often spectacularly. A piece might fly off the wheel during trimming or, worse, explode in the kiln, taking a few of its friends with it. As we like to say, we’re at the mercy of the pottery gods. 

Winter tends to slow us down, particularly me, as the studio gets too cold to work in. Even so, over the years, we’ve amassed quite a collection of pottery. Each piece tells a story, not just of its creation but of the lessons learned along the way. 

Want to See Our Creations?

If you’re interested in unique pottery with a story behind it, we’d love to share our work—and perhaps a bit of our journey—with you.

You can follow us on Instagram the page is called

Under the Silver Birch Ceramics.