I started trying to tackle some larger concept for a September letter; about art and inspiration and making and consumption and the meaning of excellence. But I can’t articulate any of this in a productive way right now. Instead, here is a sweet little story.
My friend Katrina lives in Jamestown, North Dakota. She called me one day because her toddler, Hans, had noticed a unique salt and pepper shaker set at one of her friend’s homes (also in Jamestown, ND). Being a toddler, Hans managed to chip a piece off of the salt shaker. When Katrina asked her friend where and how she could get a replacement, her friend replied “You probably can’t. We got them a long time ago at this little spot in Baltimore.”
Knowing that I live here now, Katrina called me. “This is a crazy long shot…”, told me the story of Hans, and asked if she sent me a photo, by any strange chance would I be able to find the artist? I said I would ask around.
I walked to Mary Cloonan’s office with the photo on my phone and asked, “Do you know who made these crazy baby salt and pepper shakers?” Mary said, “Oh, yeah. I did.”
Again, I think there is something poetic here about objects and energy and connection. Or maybe it’s just sort of lovely to know that, through its history and the objects that have been made here, Baltimore Clayworks has a presence just about everywhere.
Baltimore Clayworks’ Executive Director