Turning it on and Turning it off.

I’m firing today. And while others use a digital programmable controls on their kilns, I use my own digits. I turn it to Low and click a timer for 2 hours. When the timer goes off, I go down, turn it to Medium and set the time for another 2 hours. Finally, I turn it to High and check to make sure it clicks off in maybe an hour or two. 

Does it bug me that I am essentially trapped for a day with my sole job being a kiln operator? No. While it might not be the most creative or interesting job in the world, it is satisfying knowing my work is on its way to the finish line. 

Do I cross my fingers and hope? You bet. 

Because of the nature of ceramics, there is always risk. While there are many things I can control, including turning up the kiln. There are many things I can not. Unexpected bumps, holes, bubbles can happen to even the most experienced artist. Being a fairly newbie in the art of ceramics, I worry. I also blame myself for a lot of problems that are just part of the process. 

But I’m learning to embrace the process and let go of blame. And as I’ve said before, I see that the process is teaching me much about life. 

One lesson is how to turn it down. 

Letting go is not my strong suit. Leisure seems to me to be something other people do. And when, what and how they do it is a mystery to me. But, again, thanks to having to sit and wait for my kiln to fire my work, I am learning. 

For the first two hours, I took care of the domestic world. I watered plants, loaded the washing machine, made my studio notes. I always do a chart of what clay, underglazes and glazes are used on each piece. After the firing, I’ll make notes of the results. Yup, just like chemistry class. 

For the second two hours, I took care of me. Hair, makeup, a little perfume.  A healthy, delicious lunch of fresh peaches and yogurt. Yup, a little Netflix. 

But the most important and one thing I always resist: meditation. It seems so easy and a great waste of time, right? Yet I know it’s the exact opposite. It’s hard to spend even 15-20 minutes quietly on the floor. It takes discipline mixed with letting go to keep my mind open to nothing but breathing. 

When I do it even part way, the result is always worth it. 

Just like with my kiln sitting, my meditation sitting goes through stages. As the time and heat increase, many things bubble up. There are sticky, bumpy areas. And some of the feelings smooth and melt away. 

Being my own digital kiln controller, is perhaps, a blessing from a wise universe. A way to teach me about control and even more about letting it go. 

Turning on my kiln, makes me take the time to turn off my mind, leaving me with a clearer cup in which to hold my life.