Waiting

 

Today, I’m waiting. I know we all spend a lot of our time waiting. Waiting in lines. Waiting in traffic. Waiting for appointments. Waiting even longer on the phone to make appointments. 

I’m also always waiting on Mother Nature. Clay needs to take its time to dry, to be bisque fired and color added. Then another layer of color is added and another firing. 

Now, I have new ceramic pieces that need to be glaze fired to be finished. But outside the temperature today will be in the 90’s and I don’t need to create any more heat. So I’m waiting. I’ve really had enough heat for the summer, I’m ready for fall. 

Falling leaves and changing colors. 

My hydrangeas are already changing color. The beautiful blues and purples are slowly fading and this year, I’m not sure if they’ll turn that lovely shade of burgundy or fade to white. But right now, I’m enjoying them in their blue/purple loveliness along with the last of my roses. 

I used to hate fall. It meant back to school with lessons and homework. But now, I look forward to the cooler weather and falling leaves. Every year, I wait for a few trees in the park to drop their gorgeous big leaves. I pick them up carefully and take them back to my studio. 

Art from Mother Nature. 

I take these big beautiful leaves and carefully clean them, smooth them out and layer them underneath damp paper towels. I roll out slabs of white clay, carefully lay out a leaf and roll over it to press the leaf into the clay. As I roll, I press veins, edges and even holes into the clay to get all of the wonderful details that I love so much about these tree leaves. 

After I cut them out, they dry slowly under layers of plastic sheeting so they don’t crack. Once they’re dry enough, I bisque fire them. Then, they are washed with a blue/black underglaze I mix up and fired again. Once that’s done, I can glaze fire them. 

It’s a long process. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned working with clay, it’s worth the wait. 

Waiting is not easy. 

Taking the time to let clay or glaze dry

Mother Nature is more patient 

Each season comes in it’s own time

Something I am still learning

Work and Play

I can’t believe this is the last day of July. Where did it go? I look back and see a blur of hot days where working in the studio, especially with clay is hard. With no air conditioning and dry weather, clay can be cranky. 

Ok, so can I if it’s too hot. In spite of it all, I’m surprised at what I did get done. And how much fun it is to share my studio with emerging artists. 

Meet my young visiting artists. 

Meyer is 8 years old and a very busy girl with gymnastics classes, horseback riding and many family vacations. Her summer is booked. But I was so happy to have her visit my studio 2 weeks in a row. Here she is doing watercolor painting which she loves. 

The newest visiting artist was Madden, age 18 months. This is his first visit to my studio. We see him every week, and we go to the park, play with toys and books. But he’s not been ready to make his mark in the studio until now. Here he is concentrating on his art. 

Playing with a new idea. 

I don’t know why I started making these new pieces. Just one day, I took out the clay and a tower appeared. I didn’t even know what to call them. Or what they would be used for. I showed them to my daughter and she immediately said, “It’s a fairy house.” 

So there you go. I’ve now made four fairy houses which are slowly getting a paint job. Will I make more? I have no idea. Just like I had no idea I would have a cast of weird animal characters appear in my studio. But, I think, maybe that’s what creating is all about. 

Rolling out clay. 

Not thinking or planning or designing.

Just putting my hands in it,

Letting it take shape

And letting it shape me. 

Art and Ageism

 

The sun is shining. There’s a cool breeze keeping the day light and comfortable. It’s a perfect summer day, really, so why do I feel unsettled? Why am I looking up and around with a wondering, worried, wandering feeling?

Because my life has changed. So has yours, I’m sure. It happened to all of us over the last 4 years with covid and closures. Add a flooded house, reconstruction and then, job loss and no health insurance. Even though I qualify for Medicare and filed for it, it’s been 3 months and I’m still waiting for Medicare Part B due to a corporate screw up and a slow government system. 

It’s scary. And I know, I’m not alone. 

Boomers are older now. 

There’s a word everyone likes to use to describe my husband and I: retired. We’re supposed to be happy about it. It’s supposed to be a release from the drudgery of 9 to 5 work. But what if you loved your work? What if that was your interest, your creativity, your calling? And now, because you are a ‘certain’ age, you’re not supposed to be doing it anymore. 

Is that fair? Or right? Or good? That someone, somewhere gets to decide you’re done?

Nope. Not at all. It’s ageist. If you like the job and can do the job, you should be able to do it as long as you want. I’m not alone in thinking this, there are articles everywhere about men and women in their 80’s and beyond who want to keep working and many still are. 

Here’s another funny thing: as boomers are being forced out of the workplace, there’s no one to replace them. Other adults decades younger are not filling those jobs. Companies are searching for workers and not finding them. 

If you want to hear an interview about ageism, here’s a link to a podcast by Mike Turner:

https://sites.libsyn.com/468780/this-chair-rocks

This Chair Rocks

"This Chair Rocks: A Manifesto Against Ageism" author Ashton Applewhite talks about about her battles with Ageism and what can be done to stop the discrimination.

I’m not retired. And I’m not going to retire. 

As an artist, I am my own employer and employee. I get to decide what I do or don’t do. I’ll admit that can be a heavy responsibility. I’ve been a lot of places with my art over the last 20 years: gallery shows, sculpture shows, pottery shows, open studios, online shows and shops. During the pandemic, I worked hard to figure out new products to make and places to sell them. Overall, I’ve done pretty well. 

Now, I’m looking at my work from a different point of view. Instead of making what I think will sell, I want to go back to making what wants to be made. That’s how I started out. I had no finished product in mind. I didn’t think about marketing. I just picked up my paintbrush, copper, fabric or clay and worked. In the process, something emerged and I followed it. 

Somewhere along the way, I decided to lead instead of follow. I was still creating but I see that selling more became the focus. Product over process. But things are shifting again in my body, mind and soul. I’m not sure what this means or where exactly it will go.

I’m sitting here watching the clouds shift and move. 

And that’s normal and natural. 

Just like the clouds, my life is shifting and moving too. 

Time to be a little like a dragon. 

Time to be brave and fly in new directions. 

Show and Tell

 

Last weekend, I was a small part of a very big show at the Oregon Convention Center. The Oregon Potters Association Ceramic Showcase has been helping clay artists sell their work for 40 years. I am glad and grateful to be able to show and sell my work in this show. 

Before I ever threw a bowl, built a vase or made a mask, I went to this show. I remember being in one of their very first shows at the World Forestry Center with my husband and baby. I walked around marveling at all the wonderful work. I never imagined I’d ever make anything out of clay, much less be part of a ceramics show. 

Art, like life, evolves. 

As a teenager, I rebelled against more math classes and decided to take an art class. I liked it. Even though I wasn’t very good at it, I kept going: drawing, calligraphy and watercolor. The first class I took in clay was a total failure. 

I took more classes as an adult in painting, pastel and fiber art. I made masks out of window screening and clay. I showed mixed media work in copper and clay. Then one day, a very kind man, gave me his kiln and wheel. Several years of classes later, I was throwing bowls and mugs and firing vases and sculptures. 

Thirty years later, I’m showing my ceramic work as a member of the group that inspired me. The Oregon Potters Association. 

Keep on keeping on. 

It’s easy to give up. I know. There have been many times when no matter how hard I worked, things just didn’t work out. But(ok you knew there’d be a ‘but’) I have a stubborn streak or dumb luck, that kicks me into gear. And I keep going and sometimes get a chance to turn my failures around. 

Packing up for the show took days. Setting up and taking down took hours. I did my work shifts and had some wonderful and fun conversations with other artists. Hearing their stories helped me see the process of art and life can be both bumpy and beautiful. 

 

Show set up and take down is a work out. 

But getting myself out there is worth it. 

Not just for the sales, 

But to hear other artists tell their art stories.