March Forth!

It’s March. The month of trees budding, daffodils blooming and St. Patrick’s Day. And time to move the clocks forward in my part of the planet. And the first day of Spring is this week!

With all the changes in and around my life, I’ve struggled a bit to keep going at times. But when I saw someone post, “march forth” on March fourth, I took it as my ‘marching’ orders. It’s time. Time for me to quit looking back in sadness and fear and start moving forward. 

Marching Forth in the Studio. 

In the last blog, I had a picture of a cone 6 kiln load. Even after all these years working in clay, I can’t predict how pieces will turn out in the final glaze firing. In that firing, some pieces cracked, some stuck to the kiln stilts and a piece warped. I did get 3 beautiful new red Lily Vases. 

Last week, I glazed and fired some big black and white leaf platters, 3 little polar bears and a new cat figure. I’m so glad this time, everything came out perfect! Whew!

Springing Forward.  

This year has had many challenges and the last few weeks have been no exception. My darling Darby got into something when I let him out for his last potty break. It was raining and I couldn’t see what he was doing but a trip to the vet was necessary. He’s fine now, but it was scary. 

I’ve been doing a lot of experimenting in the studio this year. Instead of throwing functional pieces, I’ve been doodling with sculpture again. Sculpture is where I started with clay and now I’m back to doing it again. This time, bigger animals with more detail. Where these will go? I don’t know. And that’s ok. 

It’s time to claim my new life chapter

Is throwing out and hand building in?

Work taking a backseat to fun?

I’ll take a clue from the daffodils,

Let it bloom

Creative Experiments.

Lately, something's been shifting in my world of making. I didn't see it or realize it at first because I was coming from a maker's mindset. I thought I was just making slab vases alongside my thrown vases. Then, slowly slab-built jars, oval dishes and platters appeared on my studio shelves. I was still throwing, making my usual mugs and bowls, so I didn't see that in the background of comfortable making, I was experimenting. 

Enter creative fear and frustration. 

I spied my shifting process and decided to throw myself into it on the wheel as well. If these new shapes and textures worked with slab-building, why not take it to the rest of my work? Sounds easy and obvious, doesn't it? 

Well, obvious doesn't follow as easily as I'd like.

I threw some vases and bowls.Then I got out all the things I used to create the slab-built textures to add to the thrown pieces. I was excited and energized and gleeful as I started wrapping things around and stamping things outside and in my thrown vases and bowls. Later, I painted and stained with the same colors as my slab pieces. 

The bisque went well but when I did the clear glaze firing, I didn't get what I'd hoped. I'm disappointed. I'm not sure why I don't like the thrown pieces as well as the slab ones. With the thrown pieces, it's harder to get the texture as deeply into the clay. Maybe that's it? So the staining part of the painting process didn't work the same either because after adding the clear glaze, I got blobs and runs because it didn't sink into the delicate texture. Maybe that's it?

Disappointment led me down another road. 

I found myself making faces. I used to do masks and sculpture exclusively but I haven't really done much in the last few year as my focus has been on functional ceramics. 

One Saturday, I wandered into my studio and next thing I knew, I'd made not just another face, but a small sculptural tree house. 

Yesterday, this new little creature appeared. 

Amazing. I was not happy with my kiln unloading but even as that frustration hovers, I realize I am moving anyway. Almost behind my own back, my creativity snuck out and started experimenting. Like a child put to bed, my creative self crept under the covers with a flashlight and kept experimenting. Will these pieces ever see the light of day? Will I figure out a way to give my thrown pieces the same texture and look as my slab-built pieces? I don't know. 

But maybe, that's not the point. The real discovery is failed creative experiments don't stop creativity.

Experimenting.

(Gingko jar)

I love experimenting.  Asking myself the question: What if?  Taking out a material I've never tried and trying it.  Combining an old technique with a new to me process.  Catching a whiff of an idea and following it.  

It's thrilling.  And scary.  

The thrill of unloading a kiln full of new porcelain pieces is something, 5 years ago, I'd never dreamed I could do.  I'd had a bad clay experience in my past and I was afraid of more failure.  I went back to school and learned more but I was still scared.  Until one day, while folding wash, I saw I had a choice.  Choose fear and fold up my dreams or feel the thrill of throwing clay anyway.  I put the clothes down and picked up my clay.  

I'm still throwing and I love it.  Yes, I've had my share of cracked pots alongside beautiful bowls.

(Happy dotty bowls)

I love drinking coffee in my own mugs and putting candy in my own porcelain bowls.  But I'm not an expert or a production potter, and frankly, that's ok with me.  Because while my hands are busy throwing or hand building, my imagination begins to spin.  Questions come up and ideas peek out waving at me.  

What if?  How about trying this? Or why is that?

So I throw a bottom and hand build a top and it's a vase.

(Thrown and hand built vases...the tops remind me of tuxedo shirts.)

I take my favorite leaf form and try out a sculpture idea.

(Leaf Fairies)

I challenge myself to learn how to make a long, narrow neck vase.  And then I cut it off and make different shape.

(Long necked sgraffito vases)

I've got many experiments that may never come out of my studio closet.  But that's ok, too.  Because this isn't about success or failure, this is about the thrill of following an idea wherever it leads me.  Some might call that fickleness or folly but I call it fun.  

(Inside my studio closet...the pieces that haven't made it out yet.)

And the biggest surprise?  Is that years later, the experiments in that closet turn out to be just the right solution to a new problem.