On letting yourself be touched...

Last week I shared about an experience of finally sharing my tea bowls and rattles in an exciting way. I also shared that doing so forced me to put in to words what I am doing, or striving to do, with my work. I strive to make objects and experiences that inspire connection.

Simple. Straightforward. To the point.

Yet perhaps also vague. Abstract. Confusing. 

I try to put more words to it and feel like bits and pieces have been stated over past time and yet so many more to come. I'm a word nerd and sometimes take to the dictionary to try and find the exact word to express what I am talking about yet don't even always have the right words to describe it and so it goes...

I have mentioned before my excitement in tracing the human body and how for me it sometimes feels as proof of our physical existence sometimes more then our bodies themselves. I have done this on paper my entire life and it never gets old...

A few months ago when returning to the clay studio I picked up a tea mug and instantly traced my hand as it rested on the surface. Proof of my touch in some way.

I've thought about the piece repeatedly since making then immediately selling it and know there is something there. In distilling my purpose down to creating objects that inspire connection this feels even more important.

I posted the above image last week on instagram. Accompanying it was a passage I found online when trying to assign words to what I was trying to express. The passage reads "Maybe you've had skin next to your skin, but when was the last time you let yourself be touched?"( Tom Spanbauer, In the City of Shy Hunters )

This quote gave me words for my exploration to accompany those I have as an overarching purpose. I think touch is integral to human connection, tactile excitement. I think touch can expand upon the physical as well as in some things are very "touching", they stir something inside of us. In processing all of this information the imagery that keeps popping in to my head again and again (and quite frankly seems to have intermittently throughout my life) is that of the human shape.

I'm going with it. I'm giving myself permission here as a public declaration. I'm shushing all of the voices that accompany my paint brush or pin tool that say the work is _________(enter any derogatory statements) and going with it.

Finally, I'm curious... When was the last time you let yourself be truly touched???