I am in the remote mountain region just off the coast of the Mediterranean. The land, people, trees, shrubs, flowers, and buildings are all at once moving and still, fresh and old, full of color and sepia toned. It feels like an old loved leather chair, comfortable, full of stories, and regal in some way. I imagine my impressions of Spain are rather different from others since I was swept away to the mountains right away.
Seth Cardew is very proper (imagine 1940's London!), but friendly all the same. His pottery is just a short walk down a hill or down stairs, which ever way you want to take.
The pottery is rustic to say the least. The floor is dirt and the walls are the same white washed simplicity found in my room. I do have some slave labor to do before I can throw. I wedged a great amount of clay the other day, moistening it to ready it for throwing. I have more of that to do tomorrow. Seth has a pretty free approach compared to some potters. He doesn't set down and make me throw 50 of one shape until I can do it in my sleep but he does have a critical eye. He won't smash pots because he says that I must use them to learn other steps as well, such as trimming, decorating, etc.
I can't wait to share more about some of the philosophy of pots I've heard from Seth and other tid bits. But I'll give them to you in small doses. All at once and you might feel like you've had your head stuffed, like I do.
Or, even worse, you might not read.