Merry Christmas, Bigfoot

 Yesterday was my friend's annual Christmas Cookie Decorating party. This is right in my wheelhouse, as royal icing cookies are a hobby of mine. I bring cookies & frosting & tools - though of course she has all of that stuff - and, because I'd rather end up with 10 good cookies than 30 half-assed cookies, I pick a theme & go about decorating a few, slowly & carefully. 

I usually prefer non-traditional cookie images; trees & Santas are fine & cute & I do make a few of them! But it's fun to reach for something that people will recognize as seasonal that they haven't seen a million times. This year I got quite interested in this thru-the-window idea:

Yes, that's Bigfoot! this one is my favorite. 

Some things I would do differently: stiffer frosting for the window frames; draw the smaller details - the cardinals, etc - with cookie markers instead of a paint brush; be more careful with the background icing; small tip for the Christmas lights around the window. 

Anyway! It's the time of year that i catch up on all the stuff I didn't do the rest of the year, since my last sales event is over, no more parties to attend. I don't know if I'm going to do an "official" batch of cookies this year but if I do I'm leaning towards more window scenes. 

Merry, happy, jolly - whatever works for you, I hope your season is bright. XO L

And Now For Something Completely Different

 

Well. Not completely. 

I watch a lot of cookie decorating videos. I started because they give me ideas for slip trailing, and they sort of became my stress relief. You can only watch so many cookie decorating videos before you want to try it yourself! 

It just so happens that this year I have more time than Christmases past (guess why) so now seemed like the perfect time. I mean, Christmas and cookies go together, right? 

I wanted to do something a little less stereotypical, so I chose a couple of images related to carols: In the Bleak Midwinter (the bare trees), and It Came Upon A Midnight Clear. The metallic highlights are cake paint; I might skip that step next time, and also the little churches need work - they are kinda janky! But overall I am quite pleased. 

I've posted the cookie & royal icing recipes over at Wicked Cozy, and some in-process pics. 

Off-Topic: Some Thoughts About Public Art

What makes you want to visit a city? I'd argue public art is instrumental in creating a sense of place, a uniqueness that draws people.
I hiked three miles across the city of Minneapolis to take a photo of the iconic Spoon Bridge. That was no hardship - I like to walk in cities I am visiting, and I like to have a specific destination. Which kind of proves my point: monumental and very visible art creates landmarks and reference points, and brings the city into focus. It interrupts the sameness of cities, in the same way that a focal point in a painting will do.
I wanted to take a photo of the Spoon Bridge, even though there are thousands of better photos of the Spoon Bridge online. I wanted to touch it (visually only!) and make it one of my places, in that way. The Spoon Bridge helps anchor my sense of place and sets Minneapolis apart from other cities I have visited. I've already forgotten the convention center and the airport (even though I am currently sitting in the airport!); the hostel was fine and interesting but could have been a crumbling mansion in any city. The Spoon, though? The Spoon defines the visit, though I was only there for a few minutes, and creates commonality between visitors. It's a shared, and memorable, experience.

Anyway. More public art please, cities! It's always what I remember about my stay.

What I found on my Vacation; or Welcome Home, Fish-Boy!

One thing I hope I have learned from many years of self-employment is that even if you love your work, you gotta take a break. With that in mind, this past week has been my vacation! Other people taught my classes, and I took a break from all things pottery-related. Well - almost all things. I did spend an afternoon cleaning & organizing the studio so it would be ready when I am.

Instead, I did some hiking and some biking, and caught up on projects that have been nagging at my mind for some time. I cleaned out two big storage closets that seemed full but in fact still had plenty of space - just needed to be organized. I donated six bags of office clothing to Goodwill, despite a nagging superstitious fear that in doing so I may have precipitated some unforeseen event that will cause me to again have to get an office job.

Doug & I also just did some tooling around, visiting yard sales & junk shops, a favorite pasttime. One of those was one I visited in the spring, on my way to Blue Hill to deliver pots, and it was then that I encountered Fish Boy - a piece of yard statuary depicting a cherub embracing someone's ichthyologically incorrect idea of a fish.

I was immediately enchanted by Fish Boy, due to his charming oddity, but also because saving fish is Doug's business. He's a consultant for riverine ecosystem restoration. Fish Boy seemed made for us, but at $185 he ws right out of the budget. Nope, uh-uh, no way. So I reluctantly left him behind and went on my way.

Yesterday, when we returned to the junk barn (not sure it has a name), I remembered Fish Boy, and went to look; but he was gone from his place in a dusty corner. I mentioned this to Doug, and the Junk Barn lady heard me. She pointed out Fish Boy, out near the roadway, welcoming visitors. We had driven right past him.

I went out to look, and discovered that his price tag now read $48. This would still be a splurge for me, on something very silly. But I mean...it was so perfect.

I dragged Doug out to look at it with me. He declared it the ugliest thing he had ever seen. This just made Fish Boy more appealing to me. I went back in and asked the shop owner if there was any possibility that Fish Boy could be had for less.
"Forty dollars," came the answer.

Sold.

Now Fish Boy enjoys a place of honor in my overgrown garden among the sedum and echinachea.

My vacation has been a marvel, and now I'm excited to get back to work.

Bowls of a Different Sort

Chocolate bowls with Raspberry Fudge frozen yogurt, whipped cream nuts & berries

It's Mother's Day! My family typically come up here from the Portland area for lunch and just hanging out. Usually we sit on the deck but it a wet one out there today so we'll be staying warm and dry.
I decided to do something special for dessert: chocolate balloon bowls. I had them at Portland Pottery's Valentine's Day Date Night event, and just fell in love with the idea. So pretty! So clever!

Readers of this blog know I am not shy to try new things even when I don't know what I am doing, but this time I prepared reasonably well; I watched a few youtube videos, and asked the chef at PP  (Chef Manda! I just love her) for any tips she could pass along. Nevertheless, hilarity ensued. But then eventually success:


If you, like me, enjoy reading about other people's debacles - maybe you, like me, find it comforting to know that other people are fuck ups, just like you are, but they figure it out, and so will you - you should read this entry, my first efforts to make chocolate bowls. If you prefer to skip right to the lessons-learned bit, you should read the update, which is the got-it-figured-out part.

Mom & me. In real life we're less blurry

Lunch as great, dessert was great, now I am settling into a sugar-crash coma. Tomorrow I'll get back to making clay bowls.

A Twist on a Tradition: Seed Ball Easter Eggs

Given the holiday's roots - the name itself is derived from Eostre, a Teutonic goddess of fertility; and its Christian connection to new life and rebirth - that's what the egg symbolism is all about - I thought it made sense to create Easter Eggs that contribute to new life.

These are made of clay, coffee grounds, and wildflower seeds. Toss them into meadows in April, when the showers will dissolve them and release the seeds. The coffee grounds provide some nutrients to get them started. Well-aged compost is probably better, but I didn't have any of that lying around.
As a bonus, the wildflowers will help support bee populations, which need all the help they can get right now.

For fun I painted mine with some food coloring.

Here are the steps:

Make a little pile of coffee grounds, and one of wildflower seeds, and a few balls of clay.

Flatten out a ball of clay and press it, first into the coffee grounds...

...and then into the seeds.

Roll it into an egg shape. 

Can't wait for spring!

Drop It Like It's Hot

Click here to order!

Once again I am amusing myself on Teespring.

Give the world a peek through the spyhole! Like a secret language, other potters will recognize those falling cones - dropping like they're hot! - while everyone else is mystified.
Because I am a second grader, apparently, this amuses the hell out of me.

Like Liz Lemon, it will haunt your dreams. 😄

If you might want one for your very own, check it out here.





With apologies to Snoop Dogg.

I Make Pots and I Know Things

Well...I know some things. I actually had in mind the delightful multitude of fellow potters who emailed me to help me out with my burner trouble last week when I designed this t-shirt:

You can get one for your very own, or for the potter or ceramics instructor in your life at this link.

Game of Thrones fans will recognize the inspiration!

So Many Unanswered Questions!

8:5:3:1 Plus Honey

As you will have noticed, my joy in making things does not end with pottery! Soap has been a major interest for the last couple of years, and now I am trying my hand at lip balms.

Lip balms are both simple and complicated: you can just melt beeswax and coconut oil and get something that will serve. Because I can never do things the easy way, I've been trying out various proportions and kinds of wax, oils, and fragrance to get a balm which is, in the words of the infamous Goldilocks, "just right." Not too hard, not too soft, not too oily, not too strong-smelling. Also important: doesn't melt if you keep it in your pocket!In some ways it's like formulating a glaze: I need the right balance of flux and refractory at ^body temperature.

This batch is made of beeswax, coconut oil, grapeseed oil, vitamin E, and honey. The proportions of the first four are 8:5:3:1; the honey a half-teaspoon in 60 grams, I'll have to figure out later what that comes out to in parts. I'll probably also switch out the grapeseed oil for sweet almond oil next time, only because the grapeseed oil has a shorter shelf life.

I am starting to have a fantasy of a retail store selling handmade home goods.(I even have a name for it: Nesting Instinct.) In my dreams I make all the pottery and bath and body products...and somehow also manage the store. Guess I'll have to ask Santa for an extra 48 hours in every day.

Happy Festivus, all. Keep on making.

Update: Like Papa Bear's chair, this batch was too hard. Need to increase the proportion of liquid oil.

Drive-by Post: Cherry Valentine Soap

My latest soap!

Not pottery-related, I know, but I'm so pleased I had to share.

Later today: an update on the digital-scale saga, and two recipes from the Cushing handbook.

It Worked: Peppermint Mocha Soap

Well, that was fun. Now back to our regularly scheduled program.

Already in progress! I am making bigger things today, baskets and pitchers and maybe a cake stand or two.

And Now for Something Completely Different

My favorite expression - maybe even my motto - is "How hard can it be?" The sound of that phrase usually means I am about to find out. This is sometimes a good thing (see: The Kiln Project) and other times less so.

I've always had a thing for handmade soap. It twangs the same string on my magic twanger that cupcakes and pretty stationery and highly decorated mugs twangs. (Everybody has a magic twanger, right? You're all with me on that?) I never considered making it, as I had the impression that it was seriously complicated and maybe even dangerous; and then I saw - thanks, Pinterest - a recipe for making soap in the crockpot. Somehow anything you can do in a crockpot doesn't sound intimidating anymore. How hard can it be?

So, down in the crockpot, fats are melting. I read a whole bunch of recipes, and then made some adjustments to one which had no absurdly inaccessible ingredients.(Ostrich oil? Really, people?) Because I wasn't using the recipe exactly as I found it (because I can never, never, never, ever just do things the easy way) I had to run all the fat and oil measurement through a lye calculator, because if you get the lye wrong, well, you won't like the soap very much, as it will burn your skin.

Yeah, I remember now why I thought this was dangerous. Anyway, too late now. The fats are a-meltin'.

Okay, fast forward an hour...the lye is ever-so-carefully weighed and added to the water (outside!) then that solution is added to the fats...and then I stirred for almost an hour before it thickened enough up to show a trail if you dragged a spoon through it. The recipe said 10 minutes; lucky thing I am a tenacious bastard. But, look:

Um, is it supposed to be black?!?

It looks perfectly awful, a stinky vat of death soap to go with my deathstar ornaments. Hmmm. Well, I did substitute strong coffee for the water - this will be Peppermint Mocha Soap, if it is soap at all. But damn, it didn't seem like it was that strong.


Anyway. Nothing to do now but let it cook another hour, and stir it every so often, then pour. I'll show you the results in the morning.

Hey Jack! Over Here!

Like, well, everyone, I have a crush on Captain Jack Sparrow. Not so much Johnny Depp, who is a fine actor and surely a fine person, but is otherwise just some guy. His character, however, makes me think I was born in the wrong century. Except for being a selfish, narcissistic, violent criminal, (oh, and fictional...though in light of the aforementioned qualities, that might be a plus, on balance) he's sort of my ideal man. Imagine my delight to read that archaeologists believe that 18th century pirates of the Caribbean had a fascination for fine pottery!

I feel like I did when I learned that the Enterprise-D has a ceramics studio.

Poem for Today

Drilling holes in berry bowls
Is my idea of fun.
I drill them by the dozen
Until the job is done.

Mixing glazes
My spirit raises
Even when it rains.
I scoop the copper
From the hopper
And ponder things arcane.

The wheel it turns;
I spin out urns
For beloved pets.
Next come mugs
and little jugs
to hold your dark secrets.

Perhaps a potter shouldn't try
to spin out words of rhyme;
My mind, it works in funny ways
while my hands work overtime.

And Now for Something...

...completely different. Today was given over entirely to gardening and yard work. We bought a new mower as our old mower had been difficult to use ever since losing one of the wheels. I was able to give the old one to a neighbor who thought he could weld the broken bit of the frame, and godspeed to it. Even better, we were able to replace it with a used one for only $100, and it's not even a piece of shirt!

But that was just the beginning. I pulled up weeds, mulched, cleaned out the car, and dug through old boxes of pots in the shed and found some good ones I had forgotten about. And speaking of sheds, mine has been an eyesore since I bought the house, but it's sort of low on the priority list, so an eyesore it remains. And if a  thing is destined to be ugly, you might as well work with it. It's like I tell my students when they throw a pot they don't like: If you already hate it, alter it! Stretch it, bend it, cut it, squeeze it. You've got nothing to lose. 

And I already hated my shed -- although since any shed is better than no shed, "hate" is perhaps the wrong word. So we've begun to make it part of an assemblage, beginning with the blue-to-the-wheels bike, and the blue planter below. The planter will hold morning glories that will climb twine up to the blue bike and engulf the front of the shed. I've got some other items in mind to add, and I will keep you updated as this outdoor artwork grows. 

Mud Season Comes Early

Had a little misadventure at Watershed today when I went to unload the kiln.

The firing was fine, my celadons & iron yellows particularly nice, as were the pots in Waxy White; it's the first time I have used that glaze on brown clay. The rutile blues were a little puny. I'll post some photos, after I have a bath and a nap, because!

As I usually do, I drove my 98 Dodge Neon right across the lawn up to the kiln. The lawn didn't look any different than usual; wetter, sure, but not especially muddy. When I was as young as you are, I would have toted those bins right across that expanse of grass, but I am 45 and don't have to upper bod strength that I used to. (Also, one arm still doesn't work quite as well as it should.) Normally this poses no problem, but mid-coast Maine has had a great deal of rain in the last couple of days. I got the car loaded up, but as I was backing out, the front end suddenly dropped about 10 inches, and the tires just spun uselessly. Each tire had been engulfed by its own miniature sinkhole - caused perhaps by mole tunnels? We don't know - so the chassis was resting on the ground, the wheels up to the axels in mud, where there had previously been turf. Watershed's director, Tyler Gulden, came out to push, but the tires had nothing to grab on to. Jenipher Cooley, the adminstrative assistant (herself glowingly pregnant), brought her Jeep around to pull me out, but we couldn't get to the tow hooks, as there was no space between the front end and the ground. I dragged out the little toy jack that came with the car, but the ground near the tires was so soft the the jack mostly managed to push down Maine a little bit, without raising the car much of any at all. 

At last there was nothing for it but to call a mechanic, who came out with a giant jack and a winch.  The car popped right out, fortunately, and it only set me back $40. Q the wonder dog waited patiently on the back seat throughout. 

I want to shout out a special thanks to Tyler and Jen, who took time out of their busy day, and got muddy while Watershed has no running water due to a power outage. You two are real troopers. 

Don't touch that dial! Pots later. 

And Now for Something Completely Different...

One of the best things about being a homeowner, even - no, wait, especially of an old home - is that you can do whatever you want without the consideration of having to undo it later. I like the idea of my home being noticably that of an artist, so luckily my creativity, usually channelled towards clay, sometimes squirts out in other directions.

I got these great switchplates from Lisa Ferrara, the papermaker who does such great work at Ember Grove.
(if you like these, check them out at KRA.)

I really love Lisa's work and plan to get more of these in future; but at $20-$30 dollars each, they will be carrying me out of here feet first before I get all of my old plastic switchplates replaced. I happened to have some ModgePodge lying around (what, like you don't?) so I started going to town with whatever materials I had: gouache, scrapbooking paper, stickers. Next one will incorporate some dried palnt material from the remains of last summer's garden.

And Now for Something

...completely different. 

I did something quite out of character today. While tethering my dog behind a convenience store, I noticed a vignette that struck me. A beautiful vine dotted with brilliant red berries and golden fall foliage climbed around a prosaically dull meter in a corner where some graffiti had sprouted. Something about it twanged the same twanger that I sometimes feel looking at thrown and altered work; something about the tension between the contrasts of organic and mechanical.  

Normally I would have made a mental note of it, taken a moment to enjoy it, and gone on with my day. But lately I have been playing with my husband's camera, for more than just pottery shots. I wouldn't call myself a photographer, but sometimes I point the camera at things and press the button. I felt a little silly (in a classic Yankee who-do-you-think-you-are kind of way) but I let Doug's example inspire me: he would never feel like he had to explain why an image was important to him, nor let errands get in the way of a creative moment; much less worry that the Big Apple clerks would think he was weird. 

So I went back to the house and got the camera and took a few shots. This one is the best. I am pleased not just with the photo, but with myself for honoring creativity wherever it presents itself.