Striped Pots!

I'm really liking this stripy stuff.

 Officially it's agate clay. It's so casual, and variable, and unpredictable, it needs a casual name: stripy stuff. You wedge together partly several colors of similar clay, and make pots on the wheel from it. The clays blend and spiral as clay always does on the wheel, but you can see it happening. With enough trimming, scraping, sanding of the throwing slip, the colors show up separately on the pot. I've just been using a dark and a white stoneware for this and getting blond and brunette variants. With stains to color white clays, you can have all sorts of color mixes. That's a mess to make, and, I think, can easily become garish.

I think I prefer a more even clay mix than that, but it's interesting.

It's OK with a clear glaze, but definitely wonderful unglazed.

Dark, or light.

And the stronger color contrast, the better. Do I prefer blonds?

Happy New Year

This is from Barb Johnson at Chrysalis Pottery, forwarded to me by someone else.  I really like it, and wish it to you potters for this new year. And their equivalent to all others who work with our hands.

Hands and hearts seem to me close together. I love working with my hands. So far I have not been able to include housework in the pleasures of working with my hands, but maybe I'll get there too. Hands are our original tools and it pleases me especially when they prove to be the best pottery tool for a task. I do plan pots before and as I make them, but there is always a part of the process that goes through some path other than my intention. From heart to hand, bypassing brain?

Happy New Year.

Do We Own Pottery?

I'm thinking of violins, and other string instruments.

 If they are not broken or burned, they last for hundreds of years. We own them legally of course, buy them for money, insure them as property. But it doesn't feel like ownership really. We live with our instruments and are responsible for them. They pass through our hands and lives and on to others'. They outlast generations of us, we hand them on through chains of players. Good instruments gain in value, as they are played, or as antiques. They have their own histories and paths through time, far longer than ours. Maybe we belong to them.

So what about pots?

 They are much more "domestic", lower valued except for museum quality pieces. But they can have the same characteristic independence by longevity.  We hand on the family china to our children if they let us. We use these pots, connecting to their history with us. And then the material lasts for thousands of years. Unbroken, pots outlast memories, use, cultures; they become art or archeological artifacts,carrying different information to later people.

What does it mean to own things with "lives" of their own?

I Like These!

Here's something new. It's not often a new idea works out this well, first try.

A wonderful glaze for texture, brown when it's thin and streaky tan when thicker. And I love the leafy pattern.

We've used these plates several times and find they are easy to wash, despite the texture.

And, no, the first time is not perfect; they warped in the firing. I made these just from a slab set in a plate as mold. I like thin pots, so these were thin slabs, and sagged.  I'll try again, raising the rim on the wheel, and hope it will have more structural strength. Here's a reminder that there is always more to invent and to learn.

Are You the Potter Who is Giving Cups Away?

For a few months I have been making and giving away cups, in response to Ehren Tool's long-term project of making cups for/with veterans. He makes them with images from soldiers' combat memories and gives them away.  He is up to some 14000. I have made maybe 25, carved with a ubiquitous statement of his: peace is the only adequate war memorial.

 Just starting, and beginning to learn how people react to the offer of a cup. Besides giving cups to family and friends, I have offered them at 2 craft sales.

Most people seem to need an explanation, of the cup, or of the offer. They do not stand alone as a cup, a message, or an offer. Usually people want an answer to "why are you offering these?" Perhaps, in the context of selling, the gift is too odd to accept easily.

Some people have felt guilty at accepting something free, and have bought another pot from me, out of guilt rather than liking. I don't get it.

One woman returned later, having gone to her car to bring me a return gift, a lovely small book of Buddhist advice which she kept in the car for her use. I think that's fellow-feeling, not guilt. I appreciate it; I read it.

One man stayed to tell me at length what he does to support veterans. I'm very pleased; it was not at all clear to me that my project would be seen as supportive of anyone. 

So cups lead to conversation, and that seems to me a fine thing. Someone really did come by my booth at a sale, several hours after the cups were taken, to ask if I am the potter who is giving cups away. In some way these cups are an invitation to expand on the offer, to continue with whatever attracts people to them. I am reminded of one of the pleasures and products of these sales, an openness for me and the customers to what comes up, an availability, an invitation. It's not just selling, and not just the "stuff". I started making and offering cups because Tool's message and project spoke to me. Now I am seeing them attract other people in their own ways.

Upcoming Sales and Pots

Ready to think of Christmas presents? Ouch.

I'll be at 3 very different craft/art sales this month.

November 16-17 all day; a sale to raise funds for the ceramics program at ECC (community college branch), at Educational Cultural Complex near 805 and Imperial;
     very variable quality, including flower arrangements and potted succulent gardens, very low prices

November 19, 9-3, at Lindbergh Schweitzer Elementary School near 805 and Balboa;
     a homey, friendly, not fancy craft sale

November 20,  Talmadge Art Show, 10-4, at the Liberty Station Conference Center;
     very classy craft products

And... A Flop

Sometimes it sure doesn't work.

This is by far the best of a batch of new pots. I do like it, form, glaze, weight, feel.

But it cracked, thoroughly. No use.

Now what? I think of  Edward de Bono's recommendation from years ago, to "do a PMI". It means "plus", "minus", "interesting". Mostly it means, don't toss something disappointing without learning from it. First check the plus in it: what's good; the minus: what's bad; the interesting. And, I add, why for each of those.

What's good? The above, also the size is right for handling and use. The glaze came out interestingly variable, and where do those wonderful little red speckles come from? The texture shows. I didn't realize the glaze would look so good on this clay. The iron spots actually add to the interest.

What's bad? The crack, for sure, Why did it crack, anyway? Some stress on the side where the crack starts. I pushed the clay hard into the mold to get it thin everywhere. It's not thinner where it cracked, nor thicker, not patched...but something . Is anything else bad? I sure didn't think to consider that. Well, it could be lighter in weight. Do I dare make the clay slab thinner with this much overhang?

Think I've covered interesting, but I'm also getting interested in the problem. Why did it crack? Think I'll keep the pot awhile, show it around, ask what others think of this. So far, I have no idea.

I'd rather make successful pots, of course, but mistakes in pottery count for very little. No one is hurt, and there are always more pots in clay, glaze, and hands.