The shows are over, and the quiet winter months working alone in the studio have arrived. I use this time to catch up on projects that get cast aside during the busy holiday selling season. Like making peapods, for example – things that are whimsical and don’t necessarily have a function, take a little more time to make, and are truly a labor of love. Rolling out the peas, one by one, although a monotonous task, is actually meditative. And wrapping the balls in a thin layer of clay is quite satisfying – like bundling up the little peas in a cozy blanket. Then the finished pod gets a few twists and turns, which creates a hint of animation. It’s play time for grownups, for sure.

However, peas in general, go a little deeper for me. My father grows them in Oregon, and I remember as a child, in the summer during harvest, he’d drop off a few bundles of peas still on the vine on our front lawn every day after work, and we kids would go a little crazy scrambling after them, they were so good to eat – almost as sweet as candy. During harvest, he still drives around with a load of peas in the back of his pickup. After all these years, I’m glad there are some things that never change.

This is a photo taken a few years ago, of my father and brother sitting on the tailgate of his pickup, and my husband and daughter perched up on the tool box, with a load of peas between them.

Shelling peas, drinking soda, and shooting the breeze on a sunny afternoon. What could be better?

Before I was a potter, I was a painter. This is one of my favorites: an oil pastel of a giant peapod, and I mean, GIANT. The finished size ended up being about 3 feet tall.

It seemed quite natural that when I switched mediums, I would then go on to make peapods in clay. It’s a task I look forward to, especially now when our local CSA has asked to carry them in their new little farm store. It will be a good place to showcase them, and I think they’ll fit right in. :-)