by Natalie Putnam
Introduction: A Life in Two Acts
Many days, I press my hands into cool, damp clay and feel its silken smoothness coating my skin—a sensation worlds apart from the crisp paper and polished desks of my former business life. If you had told me decades ago that I'd trade tailored suits and spreadsheets for aprons dusted with stoneware, I would have laughed.
The Early Years: Climbing the Corporate Ladder
My career began in downtown Detroit as a truck dispatcher. Fresh out of college, armed with little but boundless ambition, I dove into the world of business. I spent years building my reputation and resume, moving from entry-level positions to management and eventually executive roles. The satisfaction of closing deals and leading teams was real, and the financial rewards were, too. Success, as defined by society, was mine.
My time in the corporate world was marked by drive and countless hours dedicated to climbing each rung of the ladder. I thrived on goal-setting and competition, always chasing the next promotion or accolade. The environment was fast-paced, rewarding, and often exhilarating, fueling my desire to make a tangible impact through leadership and strategic decision-making.
A Chance Encounter: Discovering Clay
My introduction to pottery was purely accidental and started even before college. Our high school had an art class that included pottery. The pottery wheel, with its spinning rhythm and tactile allure, mesmerized me. I lost myself in the process, shaping clay into forms that felt both ancient and new. In that class, I experienced a rare sense of flow and fulfillment. The sensation was more than just novel—it was memorable. But it was only one semester, and I soon moved on to other things, never returning to it, though I never forgot it either.
The Turning Point: Listening to My Inner Voice
As my career grew, I had frequently turned down invitations to join my friends on their "craft nights". With my demanding job and two kids, it became a luxury I didn't have, and frankly, I was not all that interested. But the feeling of "flow" returned one Christmas when I took a two-week vacation to stay home and decided to repaint my young daughter's old wooden bed. The turned wood was perfect for painting Caribbean colors, and I soon lost myself in painting the head and foot boards, gradually changing from dark brown to vibrant orange, teal, pink, and white. I was again in a state of relaxation, flow, and ease, a memory I keep even 30 years later.
Over the course of my lifetime, I moved locations, took on new titles, was promoted, and enjoyed greater recognition. It was recognition that came from hard work and building something greater than myself. I enjoyed my career, my industry contacts, and my feeling of accomplishment, but eventually the time was right to retire.
Transitioning: From Business Metrics to Artistic Milestones
In the beginning, my business background proved of little value. I finally retired, and at 65 years of age, I could pursue anything I wanted without the need to produce an income. As I assessed my options, I stumbled on a profound truth:
I started to realize that my trucking industry career was all about improving the lives and businesses of my customers, developing my employees, putting things in order, and creating something greater than myself. And art was similar! I realized that art demanded vulnerability, patience, and a willingness to embrace imperfection. I had always professed that successful companies are learning organizations. I was learning again, but this time in my art, and I was back at the beginning. I had almost no experience in art or craft.
After a year or so of working with polymer, I was able to join our community pottery club. I started with beginning hand building, making a few pieces that really got me hooked. The kindness, generosity, and skill of my teachers amazed me. They taught me without hesitation or wanting anything in return. That concept was brought home repeatedly in this community of artists, and frankly, I was arguably one of the worst in the class! All the students had at least a background in some type of art or craft. My first efforts produced some rather sloppy results! Instead of seeing these as failures, I began to appreciate them as steps in my journey. Each mistake taught me something new about the material—and myself.
Lessons Learned: The Intersection of Business and Art
My background in business has continued to shape my journey as a potter in unexpected ways. Organization, discipline, and goal-setting are just as important in the studio as they are in the office. I've learned to blend structure with spontaneity, and strategy with soul.
Pottery has taught me the importance of patience and resilience. Unlike the fast pace of the corporate world, working with clay is a slow and deliberate process. It requires trust—in the material, in the process, and in oneself. I've learned to celebrate small victories and to view setbacks as invitations to grow.
Perhaps most importantly, I've discovered the joy of creating something lasting and beautiful with my own hands. In business, achievements are often intangible or fleeting; in pottery, each piece is both a product and a story, tangible evidence of creativity and care.
Finding Purpose: More Than a Career Change
Today, my days are filled with the joy of making, the challenge of learning, and the satisfaction of sharing with others. I continue to explore new techniques and styles. The studio has become my haven—a place where I am both student and teacher, leader and learner.
Looking back, I am grateful for every step that led me here. The skills and experiences I gained in business have enriched my journey as a potter, giving me the tools to build my creative enterprise with confidence and care.
Conclusion: Embracing Change and Celebrating Creativity
If my story resonates with you, let it serve as encouragement to listen to your inner voice. Change can be daunting, especially when it means redefining your identity and stepping outside your comfort zone.
My path from businesswoman to potter was not linear, nor was it easy. It required persistence and the willingness to embrace uncertainty. But in the clay, I found myself and my purpose. And in sharing my story, I hope to inspire others to seek out their own creative adventures—wherever they may lead.
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A FEW ENDNOTES FROM JAN: (*) Natalie Putnam, thank you, thank you for sharing this delightful peek into your creative journey. (*) Friends who've signed up to be part of my community, thank you, too! (*) Friends who haven't yet joined my community, you can do it now by visiting my website or my profile/linktree tab on Facebook or Instagram. What's in it for you? A blog post celebrating creativity straight to your e-mailbox each month, as well as an e-newsletter chock full of bookish news and reviews and other surprises (e.g., recipes, game and movie recs, a chance to win bookish giveaways, and more)! That's pretty much it.
Until next time, stay literate, my friends!
