Driving Creek Pottery March 2023

We’re sitting around the 1st & favoured table in the courtyard after a swim to the pontoon at high tide. We swam out there with a beer in one hand and drank them with our legs in the water. Before this we made clay and went for a swim in the creek by the second bridge up the line, walking along the railway talking about how Barry built all of this, how incredible to achieve so much in one lifetime. Lying in the cool water of the creek, listening to the sound of water running downstream, the toot of the train somewhere above. My t-shirt smells vaguely of creek, clay and wood smoke. This shit is what it’s about.

Anneke has pre-dinner snacks lined up. We all belong and slot in perfectly. Longtime people & hardly any time at all people. None of anybody’s egos matter here. Driving Creek as it always is, sits quietly around us, bird calls and cicadas. I walk through the arch, along the parked trains, to go tend to the fire under the clay we made earlier from over at 210. It’s going good. Maybe even a little too good. I spread out the wood inside the box, making it even. The smell of sap & smoke, dirt & clay. Voices upstairs in the studio, closing doors, taking stock of the day’s making. A quiet wind eases itself around the bend.

“Another day,” someone says. “In paradise.”

The sky fades, the iron gates are closed, just us here, thrown together by chance. Beers & wine & candles. Corn on the fire.

“What are we celebrating,” asks Anneke. “Celebrating? We’re celebrating you,” says Laurie.

So, celebrate this evening, yes. Life & that we are here, for whatever reasons. Some to make clay, others to make things out of this clay, things they planned but now they’re here, it’s changed. They’ve changed. It seems inevitable here.

And these conversations in the dark, under the moon and stars. Much is repeated, regurgitated, yet excellent & motivating reminders of what is important. Even validating. It’s not the thing, but how. Barry said that. There are no limits.

Anneke: “You absolute philistines, will you look at the moon! Far out!”



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