My Early Connection to Clay

I was born in Honduras and lived there until I was almost 8 years old. Growing up there, I recall my paternal grandmother, Consuelo, making cheese with goat’s milk among many other delicious things. The goats I remember in particular because my grandmother had a huge pile of rocks for the goats to climb and play on. Of course as six year-old, I found climbing the pile of rocks almost as fun as the goats did. Maybe this was because it made me feel tall.

One day, as I sat feeling pretty mighty on the top of the tiny hill that the goats shared with me, I found a fired lump of clay. I grabbed it and noticed that it appeared as though someone had just pressed their hands around some clay and had left the imprint of their hand recorded on that piece of fired terracotta. To this day no reason has been provided as to why it was made, but even as a child I felt that it was special and that I was strangely connected to someone from many moons past because of it. So, I ran it to my grandmother, and it was so proud and happy to see that she also thought it was special, so much so that she placed it on a shelf with her other special knickknacks.

No one in our family seems to remember what happened to my artifact. So, I decided to make several of my own twenty-first century artifacts to scatter around my garden. They are strange little things, and I know they will mean nothing to anyone else, but to me it’s about the power and preciousness of the hand-made that connects people.

I was so nervous about providing my clay pieces to all of you wonderful collectors. However, your support has been so wonderful. Thank you so much for embracing with my little clay pieces. Your appreciation of my work encourages me to keep going, to be brave and to grow.

Thank you so much!!!

Many hugs,

Carolina

PS I made cheese this past week as well. It was surprisingly easy. It will be fun to try out more recipes. The one I made was pretty simple, but delicious.