Pottery Tour Giveaway

Trying a new incentive to bring visitors for the Maine Pottery Tour: all guests at my studio can enter to win this soda-fired lidded casserole dish. I'll have entry slip for people to fill out (suddenly realized: I can add them to my mailing list as well!! Oh wait, I guess that's obvious) and do the drawing Sunday at 3 pm, an hour before closing.

The Pottery Tour, if you don't already know, if April 30 - May 1 this year. We have 35 participating studios. If you'd like to download a map to plan your pottery road trip, you can do that here.

I'll be open 10- 5 on Saturday, 11- 4 on Sunday during the tour.

A Pot for Every Chicken

I think of pottery as artwork that is not finished until it is in use, so once in a while I like to post image of my work, truly finished! This is an oversized casserole - four quarts? I forget. Big enough, anyway, to cook a whole chicken, with carrots and basil, and stuffed with an onion.

I put the chicken in the oven in the morning, so I wouldn't have to fuss with preparing lunch or dinner. I spent the day instead preparing for Maine Craft Weekend, which starts tomorrow. I'm all set up, got Paypal at the ready, threw a bunch of earthenware plates for visitors to paint, and got mini-kegs of Gritty McDuff's IPA and Best Brown Ale. Still, I admit I am not optimistic about this event. Every time I mention it to anyone (who is not another potter!) they've never heard of it. I haven't seen posters around or read any press about it. Maybe I'm wrong; I've been accused before of living in a Lori-and-Doug-sized bubble, so I could be missing the buzz. We'll see.

And, really, it's all good. Worst thing that happens is I have to box all this stuff up again and haul it inside. With no more money than I had before. But with two mini-kegs of really good beer! No matter what the outcome, that won't go to waste.

Granola, Watershed Style

I got this recipe from Hope Rovelto, a sculptor and then-kitchen manager at the Watershed Center for Ceramic Arts. I did a work-week residency there years ago (I've done a couple, actually) and I was amazed at how much better Hope's granola tasted than any store-bought granola I'd ever had. Turns out to be super easy to make, also! Here's how it goes.

Watershed Granola

3 Cups rolled oats
1/2 Cup canola oil
1/2 Cup honey
1 Tsp cinnamon
1 Tsp cardamom
Tiny pinch salt
1 Tsp vanilla extract
1 Cup sliced almonds
1 cup raisins

Preheat over to 325º.
In small bowl, combine honey and oil. Pour over oats in mixing bowl. Sprinkle vanilla and spices on top. Mix thoroughly (hands are best!)

Spread mixture onto baking sheet in 1" layer. Bake at 325º for 10 minutes; flip mixture with spatula, and bake 3-5 minutes more.

Remove from oven and let cool enough to touch. Mix in raisins and almonds.

Serve with milk, yogurt, or ricotta cheese and fruit.

Speaking of Watershed! This Saturday is Salad Days, Watershed's annual fundraising blowout party. It's like a potter's reunion. They'll have a band, beautiful plates, and all the salad you can eat. Check it out here. 

Everything Happens for a Reason But Sometimes it's a Stupid Reason

In ceramics, everything happens for a reason.

Like, the interior of this otherwise-very-nice sugar bowl is dry and rough, and the reason for this is, some dumbass (ahem) forgot to glaze the inside.

And sometimes, in clay, you never figure out the reason, and that's okay, because you can solve things without knowing it. For example: I have a yellow glaze, Old Yellow, that's always been a little funny about what bisqueware it likes. If the bisque was a little too cool, it wouldn't adhere well, so I would get crawling, and sometimes sheets of glaze falling off. Uncool! But a simple fix: bisque higher. I used to bisque to ^010; I upped it to ^08. Problem solved, for years. Now this firing, I am starting to see evidence of that old crawling problem again.

But why? Same glaze, same clay bodies, a good solid 08 bisque...all the variables the same ones that have been working for years. There has to be a reason; everything happens for a reason. I just don't know the reason.

I see two possible solutions here: water the glaze down a bit, or fire the bisque a little higher. I'll probably try option 1 first, cheapskate that I am.

Lucky for me the crawling was slight, not really enough to create flaws. 

Otherwise a very good firing! These pots are bound for Monkitree, and also for my yard. Maine Pottery Tour is coming up.

PS: Also in the category of "Everything happens for a stupid reason" I submit my latest soap batch!

Goat's Milk, Oatmeal and Honey...looks like a loaf of poo, smells like ammonia. Ugh! It was worse when I first unmolded it, covered in a thick layer of oily brown yuck.Apparently honey is very prone to make soap overheat and separate. It can be rebatched but won't have the nice gold-brown color one hopes for with goat' milk soap (the round cakes are okay, though.). I plan to try again, but sadly the new batch probably will not be ready in time for the Pottery Tour.

Straight Up Studio Day!

I'm giving myself a gift today: I am going to spend the entire day in the studio, making, trimming, handling, decorating. This has become something of a rarity for me, as I work to organize the Maine Pottery Tour and to drum up support for my Kickstarter campaign (the experience of which, succeed or fail, will eventually be a blog post of its own.) So, today, no phone calls, no email, no Facebook. And errands and housecleaning are right out. Just clay. (Okay, maybe a little yoga.)

Though my attention has been divided, I have managed to get a few things made. Here are some leatherhard casserole dishes that will hopefully be dry enough for the next bisque.

I am trying to restrain myself with the stamping and slip decorating, to leave some space for the glaze to be wonderful. In terms of shape, I like the third one down the best; it seems the most graceful.

Today will be smaller things: mugs and ice cream bowls and finishing up some butter dishes. I'm turning off the computer now! Type to you tomorrow.

Put That Coffee Down!

Coffee's for closers only.



I love this scene from Glengarry Glen Ross, in part because the Alec Baldwin character gets it so wrong. "You got the prospects comin' in; you think they came in to get out of the rain? Guy doesn't walk on the lot unless he wants to buy." But nobody is coming into the real estate office at all.
Just as nobody knocks on my door and asks, "Does a good potter live here? I'd like to place an order." This is a lesson I have to learn over and over again: making the ask is key. There may be better or worse ways to do it, but the worse possible way is not to ask at all.

But I am learning. For once I thought to save out the best pots from Sunday's firing to be my samples, instead of immediately placing them out on consignment, or selling them online. And, lo!, I got an order, right off the bat, despite bad timing: it's Memorial Day weekend, and stores already have their inventory for summer. Lesson: there's always a reason not to ask. Ask anyway.
Here are the pots in my sample selection:

I Get Confused

Between Twitter and Facebook, and all the other social not-working venues, I can forget what I've posted where. I just realized this morning that I never posted the pots from the last firing on this blog! Anyway, here goes:

All of these are destined for The Artisan's Barn in Readfield, Maine, except for the strpeiy mug third from the top. That one was sold after I posted it on Facebook. So I guess the time spent on social sites is not utterly goofing off. 

More Pots from the Firing

They aren't this blurriy, in real life. My photo set-up relies on natural light, and on a snowy day in December, that is a scarce commodity. It amazes me that they can be blurry even though I am using a remote shutter control: literally nothing at all is moving. Anyway, here they are.
Online sale here!

Exhibits A & B

Let me turn your attention to Exhibit A: it ran, yes, but the dominant glaze flaw here is crawling, caused by a cool bisque. This casserole was at the top of the kiln during the bisque firing.

And now, look to Exhibit B: A rutile blue glaze that has historically been stable to ▲11, fully down; in this case it ran like a mad bastard, in the bottom of the load. Ladies and gentlemen, I think we are looking at ▲12 or more.

Incidentally, I like both of these pots, though they will need some grinding, and so must necessarily be seconds. The flaws do not compromise the function in any way, so these will be bargains at half price: $22 each. 

So, nine up top, twelve at bottom...what's a poor potter to do? I had a good suggestion, from my dear friend Paul Mahoney of Friendship River Pottery: adjust the bag wall. I am thinking to raise it two rows or more, forcing the flame (and soda) upward before it can find its way out the flue.

I also plan on making better use of the passive dampers next time around.

Keep those cards & letters coming!

The Good, The Bad, and The Refires

...and a handful of Wows. I'm not greedy; a handful of wows is all it takes to make me happy.

Hoping for the best while expecting the worst has become my secret default posture when it comes to the never-ending story of this kiln; so I was pleasantly surprised when I cracked the door around noon, and peering in, was greeted by a pot that didn't suck. Right there! In my kiln! How did that happen?

My hopes dipped when I removed the first big block; things were looking pretty dry in there. But wait! There's another non-sucking pot! And while there were a couple on that first layer that had cracked or crawled, even the unsatisfactory pots mostly didn't suck out loud; they were just dry, due, I suppose, to this being the first firing. I nearly doubled what would be a standard application of soda, but it looks like maybe I should have tripled it. Some pots, too, would have benefited from a solid cone 10, instead of the barely-nodding version we reached, but most on that first layer were just a little dry.

Now cautiously optimistic, I took a break to allow more cooling (mixed up some pizza dough in the bread maker -- Doug is a cham-PEEN pizza chef.) The first layer out, I removed another brick to reveal the next. Still some dry refires, but not as dry, not as many. ..and some really nice pots! Onward, next layer.

Bingo. This layer clearly didn't fail to reach temperature. In fact, when I get to the bottom, these pots look more like Cone 11+ than 9 or 10. I wish I had put cone packs in the lower part of the kiln -- didn't think of it until too late. This is useful information, though: I am dealing with a different problem than I thought. My troubles are not twofold -- slow firing and failure to reach -- but only one: uneven firing. The bottom probably reached temp hours before I shut it off. judging by the running on the few pieces glazed on the outside. Top cool, bottom hot...what do ya make of that? 

I'd love to take more photos, but it is going on 4 pm -- "dark o'clock" here in Maine. More tomorrow. 

Pots from Sunday's Firing

I took these rather hurriedly yesterday, as it was nearly 4 pm and I was losing my light. Overall I was pleased with the firing, especially the reds. My rutile blues were a little puny -- the glaze had frozen and thawed, and I should have added a little vinegar before use. In fact I did add a little vinegar halfway through glazing, and I can definitely see which pots were glazed before, and which after! Vinegar is a flocculent, which means it causes particles to stay in suspension longer, and will have the effect of making glaze seem thicker, although there is there same proportion of material to water.

Some of these pots are destined for Attrezzi; some for KRA and other consignment; and one I owe to my sister, since last summer. But some will find their way to my new 1000 Markets online shop! (I just never give up -- moron that later.)

Squiggle Casserole & Company

Some favorite pieces from the last firing:

I am especially delighted with the vermiculations ("worm-shapes") on the top casserole. Though somewhat labor intensive, it's very restful, hypnotic work; and they nave a nice, intriguing texture. I have used these once or twice before, and I like them especially well when they get a good blast of soda, causing the worms to soften or even flow down the side of the pot in a cascade of glaze and soda.

I took these photos myself (yes, as if anyone needed to be told), accounting for their blurriness. (Jay York I am not.) I'm told that I could avoid the blur by using a remote shutter for the camera, which we have, somewhere around here, becuase it is the slight motion of the camera as I press the button that causes the problem.
Anyblah, good firing! Most of the pieces are already spoken for, so I need to get making again.