TOO MUCH

It's all to much, just too much. I have hardly touched clay since the holidays. I have made 3 measley pots in four weeks. What is wrong with this picture? Much.

I have these conversations with clay and the more I have the better the entire talk becomes. I can hardly hear a word the clay is whispering. I almost need a hearing aide right now.

I don't care for this situation.

Red Juicy Things

Pomegranates and beets exude such a beautiful claret color. Often a dribble or drop becomes a permanent feature of many items such as: shirts and blouses, sweaters and sweatshirts, rugs and carpets. Wood loves to suck up color in salad bowls and cutting boards. Floors and natural wood trim also suck well without a good protective coating. Other surfaces that may not be sealed such as concrete, stone, rocks and even dirt can record stray droplets of red juicy things. Should it be classified as a dye for lack of a better term?

However, glass will shed red and so will glazes on pots for they are glass. I know that I can pour my best anti-oxidant red concoction into a beautiful mug and it will rinse out clean as a whistle. I like that about clay.

Rain on

Outside a misty rain is beginning to sound more like tight pitter-patters. Lying in the sand rests the new pot, collecting rivlets of water. This clay is now like stone with glass structure fusing clay particles together and body to glaze in a strong matrix. This clay will never be mud again that may melt into the earth. Nor will it be handled by hand or reflect a gooey shadow of beast, bug ,leaf or seed.
Tonight this clay stands tall as heavenly water washes its new hard surface with little droplets and beads. They run down its molten, cratered form, as on rocks and other hard things of this earth. Transformed by fire and colored in magical whirls, this clay joins ancient ones for the ages.

Must I?

Must I?

Can't I just make things, play with the clay, do my thing and try to do it well?

Do I HAVE to take it to market: wrap, pack, load, tag, price, place along with all the other artists and their boxes, shelves, lights, stools, bricky-bracks and cash boxes?

And then, reverse the spin, driving home very tired. Done talking, smiling with a bit of cash in the hand, whew.

At least the nasty little cuts at the ends of my fingers are healing having been out of water and clay for this crafts fair. That is nice.

One pot at a time

Why did it take most of the day to glaze 6 pieces? Okay, each one has a different set of colors, each one seemed to need a "touch" of some sort. But, ALL day, that seems absurd.

I am riding the Pony Express to the Crafts Fair on Nov 21st. Lost some work with cracks which was surprising and telling. Patience, this art form requires much patience; always has always will.

The kiln will be opened Saturday morning and reveal more information to this curiosity seeker.

Late October

Another day at the clay, with the whirling wetness waiting for form or not. This stuff of earth fascinates me still as I spin through the day hoping to be fully alive for that moment of grace. I attempt to purge my limits while the leaves flicker in golden sunlight. Quietly, they reach their destiny, the tired grass in late October.

Report: one platter, 2 weed pots begun. 3 bowls waxed to glaze. 3 bowls dried for bisque, one cracked and perhaps not able to be saved. Also, slip trailing is hard when the bulb burps. Accidents remain alive and that is good. Also, again, do NOT submerge bisque in the wax pot, just don't. Do use nice wet clay.
And again I ask: How does my teacher, Terry, do all that he does and so well?
Lindaa