On breaking patterns, trying what doesn’t make sense, and finding out what happens
Sometimes the answer is to do the opposite of what you have been doing. I don’t mean that in a dramatic way. I mean it practically. If something is not working and you keep doing it the same way, you already know the result. You have the data. You have run the experiment. The outcome is in, and it is not what you wanted. At some point, continuing the same approach stops being persistence and starts being stubbornness, and the only difference between those two things is whether or not the approach is working.
The pottery world is full of rules that made sense for someone else’s kiln, someone else’s clay, someone else’s hands. You absorb them because they come from experienced people, and experienced people have earned the right to be listened to. But there comes a point where the rules no longer solve your specific problem, and following them more closely is not going to change that. Doing the opposite is not disrespect. It is curiosity applied in a different direction
This goes beyond the kiln. I spent years trying to grow the pottery by getting louder, reaching more people, and showing up in more places. Then I tried the opposite. I got quieter. I wrote for one person instead of a crowd. I made pots for the people already paying attention instead of chasing the ones who weren’t. The audience got smaller, and the work got better, and the people who stayed cared more.
If you are stuck and you have tried everything you can think of, consider that the thing you haven’t tried is the reverse of what you have been doing. Go slower where you went fast. Go simple where you went complicated. Say no where you kept saying yes. Price the work higher instead of lower. Write less instead of more. Rest instead of push. The opposite is not always right. But if what you have been doing is consistently not working, the opposite is at least different, and different gives you new information.
If I were living yesterday a second time: I would have tried the opposite sooner instead of running the same experiment three more times hoping for a different result.
Things I am grateful for: The people whose rules I followed long enough to understand why doing the opposite sometimes makes more sense.
If I get to live to be 86, I might only have: 12,650 days left. A few of them have gone toward learning that when the road dead-ends, turning around is not giving up. It is just facing a direction you haven’t tried yet.
Enjoyed this post? Get The Pottery Dailies delivered to your inbox every day.Subscribe on Substack.
Connect with Creek Road Pottery LLC:
Website | Shop | Collectors Club | The Pin Tool Podcast | Instagram | Bluesky
