Jeanette Dias, or JinSu, is a ceramicist at Erector Square Studios, a studio complex home to 175 studios occupied by local New Haven artists. Born in India, JinSu emphasizes holistic wellness and medicine in her home, bustling with four daughters. Fifteen years ago, after being diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, a rare eye disease that causes progressive vision loss, JinSu found solace and spirituality in pottery. I was struck by the way she sees her relationship with clay as dialogue: listening to the clay and responding to its desires and callings. To her, clay is a form of healing.

JinSu: Fifteen years ago, I was diagnosed with an eye disease: retinitis pigmentosa. Everyone was like, “Oh my God, it’s awful you have this eye disease because you’re so young, and usually people get it in their 80s”. I was only in my 30s then. I was told I had a good eight years, “so make use of those eight years because after that’s all downhill.” 

I’m from India, so I do a lot of holistic medicine to begin with, and I said, “No, no, that’s not me.” So for the next 10 years, I went through everything that India had to offer: I went back to school, became a holistic wellness coach, and did my yoga certification– because I wanted to clean my body to an extent where this disease goes away. 


It definitely slowed it down. But then, a few years later, I began to see the degradation. Everybody was witnessing this, and I wasn’t accepting it, but everyone was saying, “Jeanette’s really going downhill.” I realized that I needed to find something that was mine. 

And so I went back into the studio.

Addy: What was it like returning to the studio for the first time years after your diagnosis?

JinSu: The one thing I noticed in the beginning was just about the form. I noticed everyone would always copy each other [in the studio]. I realized that with the eye disease, I couldn’t do what everyone else was doing: I had to create my own form, and I had to be okay with it.
 I had to make peace and surrender to what might not be what everyone considers beautiful. But I began to fall in love with it. I started to fall in love with the brokenness, the wonkiness, and the rough sides: I would find a bump in something and go, “Oh my God, I think I love you the most, more than any of these other perfect ones.”

My third daughter once broke one of my bowls; she was horrified. She was like, “Oh my God, mom can never make this again; it’s broken, and I did it.” 
It was so funny because she was the one who actually pushed me back into the studio. I said, “Look, this is clay. The beauty of it is you create something wonderful, but when you’re done with it, you can return it to the earth. You give it back to the other.” I said, “That’s what I’m gonna do.” She said, “No, let’s glue it together!” I was like, “No, honey, we’re not doing that.” 

But my other favorite thing (and my family breaks so many of them, that’s why I make a lot of them) is spoons. I make spoons of all kinds and sizes. I put them on Christmas trees.
I put them on everything I can. 

Addy: Do you know why you were drawn to spoons? 


JinSu: It’s a spooning effect. I like caves. I like the warm, comforting feeling. Spoons also have to do with food and medicine, so I make medicinal spoons, which I have for each medicinal jar at home. It’s more than just a spoon for me; it’s a vessel. 

Addy: When you sit down to start a new piece, do you have a vision beforehand?

JinSu: Some people would call it prayer, and some people call it meditation. It comes to me in dreams sometimes, and other times, I will not sleep for days or nights because I’ll have this one thought in my head.

Addy: What is it that draws you to the medium of clay?

JinSu: Clay has been there for me in my darkest moments. I’m an artist, and I have other forms of media that I love to work with: I paint, I also sketch, and I cook beautiful recipes that are appealing to the eye. So I do create in other ways, but clay has this beautiful… it’s like a love affair. Clay takes all my worries, my questions, my fears, and my judgment, and it literally sits with them and gives me this opportunity to witness all this sewage coming out. It allows me to, in essence, witness. Sometimes, when I force the clay, I’m like, “I know you’re dry, but I’m going to try and mold you into something I want.” And the clay is like, “I really want to help you out here, but you need to give me some more water and some time, and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” and I’m like, “fuck no.” And then three days later, there’s a big ass crack. And I’m like, why did you do that? And I realize I would not have been satisfied with getting my way when it would not last anyway. 

There’s this learning with the clay that takes you to this place of deep wisdom within yourself.
 It gets me in a meditative state where I can open myself up to the other realms of communication — with art, food, and relationships. 

Addy: When you’re working with the clay, do you feel alone? 


JinSu: Yes and no. I don’t feel alone unless I’m struggling in some other area. 

Clay will tell you what it wants. I call it my healing: what do I want to heal today? Do I want to heal my insecurities? Do I wanna heal my self-judgment? 
Do I want to heal my jealousy? And when I get on the wheel when it’s just sitting in silence, yes, I’m alone, but I’m not alone, really.

Addy: Have you talked to any other artists who have conditions similar to yours? 

JinSu: No, I have actually not found anyone.

I wanna work with people, especially regarding mental health, and also people who just have a disability with their senses because I think clay just teaches you to figure it out. Stop focusing on what you can’t, and focus on what mediums allow you to do — especially clay.