My pottery-making
experience at Suetoku-Gama
Sue and Kaori complement each other well as a couple.
When the earthquake struck Tohoku, Kaori came to this area from Osaka as a volunteer.
As a foreigner living in Saitama Prefecture, I was urged by many to go home to South Korea at the time of the 2011 disaster, and that had grown even more stressful than the nuclear disaster.
The opposition of her parents, worrying about their daughter moving from Osaka to Fukushima, must have been strong as well.
I take a sip from a drink poured into a Soma-yaki cup.
Then I listen intently to the passion of these people who bring fresh ideas to the pottery they create. For a time, I fired ceramics and painted pictures at school as well, but a time came when, of my own will and of those close to me, I moved on from the path of painting I had followed for more than a decade, and went to take on new challenges.
These people overcame all of these things, and have set out to preserve a new tradition.
Among Sue’s works, one interesting design in particular caught my eye.
A constellation is painted on it.
When you bring it close to the light, just like these two preserving their tradition, the constellation begins to shine.
Deeply engrossed in conversation, we headed down to the first floor workshop to try making pottery.
The two will soon get married.
One grew up in Osaka and the other in Fukushima, and they showed me chopstick rests they made in the shape of each of their home regions.
They also show me cups, each individually made on the pottery wheel, which they will give to the guests at the wedding ceremony they will be holding soon.
What bright smiles.
Cautiously, I suggest that perhaps what lit the fire in their hearts, motivating them to once again take up that 300-year tradition and live for the moment was having “someone.”
Someone who will stand by them, and lend their strength when things get tough...
Someone who will offer a shoulder to lean on in times of need. That kind of someone.
