Rituals of Making: Horacio Casillas
Rituals of Making: Horacio Casillas
Born in Chandler, Arizona, and raised in Jalisco, Mexico, artist Horacio Casillas makes holy water fonts for use in the Catholic church, elaborately carved clay jars, and other ceramic works. He is currently taking a break from his Texas-based artistic practice and serving in an orphanage in Honduras.
Balancing Inspiration, Interpretation, and Execution
As creatures of habit, we are often trapped and tormented by the repetition of the vices we can’t seem to shake, yet in our habitual nature we find solace in the repetition of virtues. Like everyone, I have good and bad habits when it comes to working in the studio.
At the heart of a craftsperson’s rituals lies the initiation. My most peaceful and productive days are the ones when I practice my best habits: getting up early, going to morning Mass, and doing my morning prayers. These rituals orient my mind, body, and soul toward God. By quieting my mind, assuming a posture of humility, and surrendering to the difficulties the day might bring, I open myself and my creative work to endless potential.
One of my worst habits that usually ruins the flow of the day is spending too much time on social media. The world is often so loud and divisive, I can’t hear myself think. As much as Instagram and other platforms can be a source of inspiration and fraternal connectedness, for me they do more harm than good. If I’m going to be creative, I need to clear my head and look to the Creator, the author of beauty, for inspiration.
I have traveled a lot in the past five years, and the thing I appreciate most about going to new places is being able to visit different churches. A few of my favorite churches are the Cathedral of Saint Paul in Saint Paul, Minnesota; St. Joseph in Macon, Georgia; and St. Lucien in Spruce Pine, North Carolina. As much as my desire to create comes from the Lord, a lot of my design inspiration comes from the aesthetic of Byzantine, Gothic, and Baroque architecture.
Because of my travels, I’ve had many different workspaces. One of the rituals I enjoy most is one of the most important: setting up a new workspace or studio. As a maker, I spend close to 90 percent of my time in the studio. For me, it represents a sacred space, much like the chapel I find consolation in. So I spend a good amount of time making sure it’s peaceful by finding the best place for all my tools, considering the direction I’ll face when I throw on the wheel, and taking into account where the windows are and where the sun is coming from.
Along with having an efficient setup, continual maintenance is also important. My most productive days start the day before, when I’ve cleaned up my mess—my work table is decluttered, my tools are washed and laid out, and my wheel is spotless. This allows me to use my time more wisely and be creative in the morning, when I feel most energized. As the day goes on, I’ll drink hot tea, mostly green tea but sometimes chamomile, depending on whether I need some caffeine. Either way, it’s calming.
Throughout the day, I usually listen to music, most often Texas country (I know, for the most part I’m alone in that boat, ha ha). But I also listen to rancheras and other old-school Mexican music, and when I feel like I’ve lost focus, my go-to is Gregorian chant.
Making sure my space can facilitate productivity is a gesture of my openness to co-creation with the Creator. This is something I will always have to work at, because by no means are all my ideas divine revelation. The number of failures I’ve had is proof of that. But in the sphere of artistic expression, the act of creation is not just technical; it is a balance between inspiration, interpretation, and execution.
One of my final rituals at the end of the day is to take a step back and contemplate how the day went. Did I work collaboratively with God? Did I work productively? How do I prepare for the next day? Do I focus on something, or should I walk away entirely?
—Horacio Casillas
horaciocasillas.com | @horacio_casillas_jr