Part III: On Urn Making as a Form of Healing
“Unbeing dead isn't being alive.” ― E. E. Cummings
Today’s post was written while listening to my Spotify “Daily Mix 02” playlist, which is a great curation of music I enjoy - generally speaking. I hope you enjoy it, too.
I suppose I wrote Part I (Grammy Hall) and Part II (Uncle Kevin) because I needed to - for me. But, I also have such an overwhelming desire lately to receive warmth, inspiration, and grounding from ancestors. My family - in general - is small. Both Part I and Part II reflect on significant parts of my family, both beloved humans from my Dad’s side, that I feel (in my bones) are an inextricable part of me.
Through both my Grammy Hall and my Uncle Kevin I have an “arm” extended to my great grandmother who was an incredible artist - painter, mixed-medium, musician (she apparently played the mandolin quite well as part of a band in Western Massachusetts!). One of the first female post masters in the United States. A force, she was! I am grateful to have her art in my home, reminding me that the pull to make and create and think and push boundaries isn’t only a defiant part of me - it’s my DNA. Through my great grandmother - who I never met in the flesh - art in its many forms flowed through my Grammy (writing and quilting) and my Uncle (writing, music, wood working). And then to me.
I’m not so much an artist in that I’m trained in a particular art form, nor do I exceptionally excel at any specific art. I do, however, find enjoyment in using my hands to create through clay and painting. For the last couple of years I’ve diligently been a part of a ceramics studio a town over from where I live. This twice-weekly time to play and explore with clay has been critically important for my mental and social-emotional health.
When my Uncle passed unexpectedly in November 2023, I had taken several ceramics classes. Through my ceramics teacher and studio, I had the chance to take a Raku firing class with a local potter and fell in love with this type of firing. In class, we were learning to throw closed forms, which present a way to create lidded vessels of all shapes and sizes. Shortly after my Uncle’s death, my hands wanted nothing more than to create many of these vessels for those I loved to hold his ashes or trinkets and memories of him that they felt needed commemoration, protection, and keepsaking.
At that time in late 2023 and early 2024, I threw a total of 9 to 10 keepsake vessels (“urns”). Most of these have gone to family as a way to honor my Uncle and keep his memory close. Some still exist at home with me as a reminder of this time and how cathartic and healing it was to channel so much emotion into something that felt so meaningful. To share this emotion through clay and art felt like the best way I could allow myself to process everything I was feeling.
Processing emotions of all kind through art has been a relative constant in my life. I can’t help but realize that pattern in my family. So, as I begin this Death Doula education journey, I hope I can also bring art as a form of therapeutic processing to those I support through death and dying. To co-create and collaborate on a keepsake vessel during death and dying can feel like an act of resistance - not resisting death, but resisting the idea that death is only an ending. To resist the idea that the dead and dying do not live on within us, within their legacies and creations, and within their community.
To create anything is an act of resistance. To listen to your instincts (a combo of gut, heart, and head coming together in unison to give you those “pangs” that urge you in a particular direction) is an act of resistance. Resistance in general is a form of liberation.
These days, I spend a lot of time thinking about the idea of liberation and freedom - particularly freedom in the sense of “agency”. As I continue on this journey, I think much of my thoughts, feelings, and ramblings will remain rooted in living for liberation and freedom through agency with the hopes I can honor the entrepreneurial and creative spirits of my ancestors.
Last week, I decided “freedom” is my guiding word for 2025.
What’s your guiding word for this year?
Memento Mori,
Kelsey
P.S. - This marks the third and final part of the “why” portion of the Death Doula learning and work I am embarking on this year. Writing, however, will continue as I document this journey alongside you - whoever you are reading these words. Thank you for being here.