The Voice of an Ancient Potter

With the exchange of cash and a warm handshake, another pottery sale is completed in Mata Ortiz. As the satisfied customer prepares to leave, the young potter, exuberant in the dawn of his career, beckons the visitor into the vintage kitchen.

"Venga aqu’," he says, leading the curious American to the back of the house. In the shadowy kitchen, the potter drops to his hands and knees, reaching into the recesses of a deep cupboard. Smiling, he pulls out a parcel wrapped in old cloth.

"My grandfather found this many years ago, working in the fields across the river. It's from the ancient ones," he explains, unwrapping a crude and compelling piece of pottery.

Enthralled, the guest carefully takes the pot into her hands, honored at the opportunity to hold a pre-Columbian creation. She traces the finger grooves left a thousand years ago by a Paquimé potter. She tries to interpret the worn design. Then, concerned that her host may want to sell the piece, she quickly precludes negotiations saying, "Only someone very rich could afford to buy such a piece."

"Ah, this pot is not for sale," the young artist explains. "This pot stays right here where it belongs, safe with a family of potters."