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.

No Excuses Left

The first bricks for the new kiln! Doug, inveterate scavenger that he is,  rescued these from the rubble pile at Watershed. They were piled amid broken pots and tiles and great slags of discarded clay, but there were lots of usable brick, especially many that could be cut down to halves or soaps. 

Now that the kiln pad is protected under a roof, my last excuse for not rebuilding the kiln itself has evaporated. The old kiln, which has an origin story to rival any superhero, has not been, since it came into my possession, capable of reaching Cone 10 in reduction; nor could it ever be used for soda, due to being constructed of soft brick in a steel jacket. All of which renders it only useful as a bisque kiln, for me. Not that I am complaining -- it has served well in that capacity, and I have been lucky to have a relationship with Watershed whereby I can use their kilns for my glaze firings. Nevertheless, it's time to put on my big-girl panties and start dealing with the necessities for constructing a new, Cone-10 capable, soda-tolerant kiln.

I actually put one foot into the big-girl panties last winter, when I downloaded plans from the site of Dave and Mary Cuzick, of Cuzick Pottery. Though I made  little progress in the months that followed, that step was a crucial one, as it transformed the new kiln from a vague, half-formed notion of something I might someday be able to do into an actual doable thing, with a finite list of necessary materials, all of which might be obtained by a potter with sufficient determination. 

While at SIUE, I took part in the construction of several kilns, but that was mostly just stacking brick wherever someone told me to. My studiomate & I built a dual-firebox, woodfired kiln while I lived in Minnesota, but Mary Jo was definitely the brains of that operation. This time, there's just me. Doug will help build, of course, but I'm the one who is supposed to know what I am doing. Ha!

The Cuzick plans (which originate from San Diego State University) are excellent but I will probably need to deviate signifcantly from them, as I will be using existing burners, and, perhaps, the existing castable arch. That last is under consideration: arch brick is expensive, and it's hard to find what you need used; but using the old arch will mean staying within the footprint of the old kiln, where it might be nice to go larger. Still: plenty of things I can do before I have to make that decision. Like scrounge up used brick! Today's task is to take photos of the small gas kiln at the 'Shed - it is the perfect one- (or two-) potter size, and it fires quickly and evenly every time. I'd have to modify it for soda, of course, but I want to document the layout. 

Farewell to the Man who Made Pottery Sexy

RIP, Patrick.

Waxing Philosophical

For some reason I always enjoy waxing day in the studio. It's a sort of mindless task that falls between making and glazing, one which only requires a small portion of my attention, leaving the rest of my mind free to wander over hill and dale. Tomorrow is glazing, a much more active task, physically and mentally. 

And, while I am humming, and waxing, and thinking about chaos theory, and evolutionary psychology, and a million other things, Doug is finishing up the kiln roof, yay! 

Another Thought on the Subject

John Britt has a brief, funny post over at Clay Club; one which wryly addresses the question I have been chewing on for the last year, or really, most of my life: How to make a living as a potter. 

Baby, if you've ever wondered...

...Wondered, whatever became of me? Well, I am still here, trying to regain my traction. Here's what's keeping me away from the blogosphere:



1)Recovery from my mysterious shoulder injury has been painfully (literally) slow, so I am limited to a few pots at a time before the ache starts in. Few pots means a long time between firings.

2)It seems like there is just less time in the day this summer than usual, in part because I am trying to get my big old house painted. I am painting cream over dark-brown-faded-to-brick, so many, many coats are needed. I actually started this project two summers ago, just pecking away at it when I had an hour here or there; but I am getting sick of it looking like ass, blotchy and half done. I won't be able to finish it this year -- doing so will require a longer ladder, which is not in the budget -- but I want everything I can reach, done. It is sucking up all of my time.

3) I am letting myself get way too down reading about the efforts in Washington toward health care reform. I think it is the most important issue our country has faced in a long time, and I am discouraged by how many people, politicians and otherwise, seem content to simply leave things the way they are. Hey, they've got theirs, right? But don't let me get started on that. It takes up too much of my mind as it is, and this blog is not the place for it.



On the plus side, it has been a boom year for pottery sales, as I have two new outlets this season that regularly send nice checks. One is a year round store, one open from May to December. If I could just make more pots, I could probably do even better. I am considering pulling work from the outlets which don't do well, but that seems...I don't know. Not nice, somehow. You can see I lack the killer business instincts. On the other hand they might rather have the space for other work.



It's time once again to forgive myself for not being superhuman, and just get done what I can, and let go of the rest. Carpet covered with cat hair? Hakuna Matata! Garden getting weedy? ♫ Shadda-dadda, that ain't no crime! ♫
Seriously, some self-love is in order. That and a goal-setting reboot, coming soon to a blog near you.

One-handed Bowls

Because I was anxious about re-injuring my shoulder, I stuck with very small bowls to start with. These were a pound and a half -- about the upper limit of what I can center with one hand; ribbing and pulling up seemed safe enough activities for both. I was overly cautious, I think: a few days later, in class, I demonstrated with 4 1/2 pounds, with no ill effects. I also loaded a bisque, only to discover that a thermocouple was shot, and that I am out, so I had to put off the firing until the new one arrives. Yes, I could have duct-taped the valve open, but again, I am more cautious than I used to be.  On a tangent, why in the Sam Hill does it cost $8 to ship a thermocouple? You could almost just stick it in a #10 envelope with a first class stamp. Highway robbery. 

Work is progressing on the kiln shelter, although not much of my work, I admit. I sketched it out and got the materials, but Doug has done almost all of the construction. That's probably for the best, as, watching him, I am astounded at how much more careful he is than I would be that things are level, at precise right angles, etc. I have a "whatever, good-enough" attitude about such things with the result that my projects, while perfectly servicable, often have a half-assed look about them. When it comes time to build the new kiln (hopefully next summer...Anyone have a line on used superduty brick, anywhere near Maine?) I will have to make an effort to emulate him. 

Here's What I've Been Doing Instead of Making Pots

Since early spring I've had some soreness and loss of range of motion in both shoulders. I thought that they were improving -- my right definitely was. And then one day I woke up almost completely unable to move my left arm from the shoulder at all. At least, not without howling in pain. Turns out I have adhesive capsulitis, or frozen shoulder.

Until this happened, I would not have guessed how hugely inconvenient it would be. After all, I've still got one good arm, right? Well, practically everything I want to do is almost impossible one-handed. Okay, that's an overstatement. I don't have much trouble cooking, for example, or driving. But: getting dressed, working in the garden, making pots...even reading is much more difficult. I've postponed the firing I had hoped to do this week; I don't even have a good guess as to when I might reschedule. My shoulder is light years better than it was, but it is still drastically limited, and I am very afraid of re-injuring, further slowing a recovery that my doc says will take months as it is. So I do my exercises faithfully, and am ever so careful. 

So, anyblah: I might try throwing tomorrow, just some small things. On the up side, work has begun (Doug's work, that is: building goes on the long list of things I can't do right now) on the kiln shelter! And a nice day is finally on tap for tomorrow. 

One Tough Custom Order

I don't do custom work, except when I do. I have often vowed not to take any more orders, because, in my experience, no matter how well someone describes what they want, even if what they want is well within my style, since I can't see inside their heads, the finished product is never quite what they had in mind. So even if the transaction proceeds, I am left feeling like I have let someone down.

As occasionally happens, I felt this order was different. A woman contacted me through a friend who had told her I sometimes make urns for a local veterinarian who specializes in cats. She had recently lost a beloved cat, one of a pair of littermates, and she was wanting a special container to hold the ashes, all she has left of her dear companion. I myself lost first one, then the other, of a pair of littermates who had been my loving friends since my college days; and then shortly after that, I lost Waldo, a beautiful, mysterious cat who came to live with us. I deeply understood this woman's grief. I accepted her order for an urn with a small sculpture of her cat on it.

Of course, because it is so emotional, it is important to me to get it right; which makes it more intimidating. I struggled, and then put it off, and struggled some more, and looked at the photos she sent me of her cat, Allegro. I wanted to get it right for Allegro.

I still want to get it right, and I hope I have done; and I recognize that I might continue to try to do better forever. So: the wetwork is done.  The surface, of course, is equally important, and I will work to get the markings right. I plan to use underglaze, so I can tightly control where the colors go -- they will stay where I brush them.  

That's Step 2. 

And I Almost Missed it!

I learned via Twitter this morning this is National Clay Week. If I'd known it was coming, I'd have fired a kiln! Instead I made lidded jars, which are still not quite what I have in mind. I was trying for jaunty; the word "circus" kept coming to my mind, although I didn't want to be literal about it.

Happy National Clay Week!

Here's What I am Making Today.

I hope. I don't usually sketch first -- I just keep making variations, sort of sketching three dimensionally -- but I can't quite get what I am after. Maybe drawing it will help.

June Goal Setting

I had a wake up call this week, in the form of a voicemail from the director of Watershed, asking for a callback regarding the kilns. Tyler is my buddy and a great guy, but I managed to convince myself that he was going to tell me I wouldn't be able to use Watershed's kilns anymore. The truth turned out to be no big deal -- thye are having some work done on the facility, so will need to limit access to the kilns to summer residents and staff until that is done. But it brought home to me that I really need to move forward on rebuilding my kiln, so I can do all my firings at home, not just the bisques. I love Watershed, and I love spending time there while I fire, but it's a little untenable to remain dependent on them. Also, it just starts to feel a little -- what? amatuerish? -- to be again using someone else's kiln, no matter how awesome the folks and facilities.
So: I have one main goal for June, and that is to get started on the kiln shelter, which is the necessary precursor to the kiln rebuild. I will not come up with $4000 all at once, but once the shelter is built, I can start stashing brick, buying a hundred (or whatever) at a time.