Jeannine Carson

I make colorful, small batch pottery items that fit easily into modern living spaces. Everyone has that favorite mug, the one they use every morning to savor their first cup of coffee or tea. It becomes a part of their daily ritual. The mug relegated to the favored position is usually determined, whether consciously or not, by the user’s preference to the color, the shape and the texture of the pot itself.  People choose colors that make us happy, a weight and surface that feels good in the hand or on the lip as well as a pot that functions well. It holds the perfect amount, has a rim that feels good against the lip and a shape that fits easily in the hand. This fact is exhilarating to me as an artist because it means there exists an infinite number of combinations, interactions and possibilities to pursue in clay. 

The beauty of a simple well proportioned form.  

I am fascinated with the evocative nature of color and how the perception of color forms a personal emotional response in the user.

I am also interested in texture, particularly those that are composed by the tessellation of a single element, as with that of a stamp, repeatedly impressed on the surface of the clay. The methodical repetition induces a sense of peacefulness only to be lost and regained due to the fact that the hand can never attain perfect regularity. In ceramics there it is not just the eye but the hand that perceives the work.  How does the texture feel to the hand or lip of the user.

My intention is to explore how the color, form and texture, of each pot work to create a pleasurable experience for the user.

Because pottery is a craft that requires technical proficiency in order for the pot to properly function, it requires a constant striving for perfection. Even the mildest irregularity will draw the eye or hand  to it and disrupt the user’s experience. By definition, being human means never quite getting to perfection. Thus, I learn daily that there always remains “one more adjustment”. The challenge of my art lies in the ongoing decisions as to whether to let the “mistakes” be the idiosyncrasies in the work, making it an expression of the pots’ individuality, or to address and correct them. The striving towards mastery is constantly tempered by the learned wisdom that perfect order can never be attained. Through the wrestling of that tension and ultimately through surrender and acceptance I find the process of making pottery cathartic.