little bits of happy

yesterday I pulled this piece, and a few others (it was a tiny kiln load in my tiny kiln), from my kiln.  I was really happy with how it turned out.  This blue is a new color for me- brighter than I wanted, but I'm pleased.  The photo is dark so it's difficult to see (especially with the high gloss finish), but I really like the watercolor-y lightness and depth of color.  I want to play more with this watercolor effect.

I was also pleased that my little kiln made it up to ^6- I regularly bisque in this kiln- the bisque fire is the first firing- I take the kiln up to about 1900 degrees, slowly at first to make sure the pieces are bone dry- then finish up fairly rapidly in 10 or so hours.  Yes, I said rapidly.  The second firing goes to the mid 2200s and typically takes 13-14 hours.  The little kiln is older; the coils need to be replaced, but I rarely glaze fire because in the past it hasn't reached ^6 in 14 hours.  Happily, it did on Tuesday night and I opened the kiln up Thursday morning.  I've taken to letting the kiln cool for a full 24 hours before I even touch it- I don't want to risk cracks in the glaze or worse, the pots, from cool air flooding the hot pottery.  Once, in my first few years of making pots, I melted the sleeves of a down coat by taking a too-hot piece from the kiln.  I've learned my lesson there.

Other happy bits- the weather has cooled down to windows-open temps.  Next week will be back in the 90s, but this week's been a lovely reprieve.  And it's reminded us to get our firewood ready for actual cold.

I bought my plane ticket for San Francisco!  Only after much hesitating and dithering and nausea caused by sticker shock.  Lesson learned: next time, buy it when it's $300.  I am excited to go, and more excited to see my friend and mentor, Diana.  I'm also grateful that Gary's company is having a big meeting in an interesting city.  Work (at home, even) is going well for him, and I'm glad for that. 

This piece of pottery is for an Oct/Nov invitational show.  I'm really excited to be working on a large group of unified pieces.  They all have to hang on the wall- that's a challenge I'm working through.  I've figured out flattish bowls and platters, but I'd like to hang some deeper pieces.  Time for some experimentation.

Have a lovely weekend, everyone.

right here

is where all of my energy has been going lately.  So far I think I have 8 of each of these pieces, maybe a few more.  The ones on the upper shelf are 7.5" x 5-6" oval cylinder vases.  The lower shelf is 5.5"x 7.5" ovals.  Not shown are 13" diameter shallow bowls. 

I need to have 10 of each of the 3 styles, so I'm making 14 of each. 
I'm also working on finishing glazing the dinner set I showed you last week- the touch ups and replacement pieces, plus two sets of bowls for a client who has been ordering her dishes piece-meal fashion. 

I did not labor on labor day.  I didn't even pick up my camera.  Today I glazed.  Tomorrow I'll trim and throw a bit, then tackle a few boxes of tomatoes.  Those won't last.

relief

my friends, let me show you what relief looks like:

This is the dinner set that I referred to as "green ware" in my last post.  "Green" means that it hasn't been fired.  I have to remake one mug and three desert plates, plus do some spot-reglazing on almost every piece in this set, but the bulk of the work is done and I'm not sweating over it anymore.

Plus, I have an incentive to get it (and two other big projects) off my plate.  I'm going to San Francisco (tagging along on a work trip) the first of October and I want a clear slate before I leave.  This means that September will be busy, but that's good because I need immediate goals to stay focused and productive.  Now I know this about myself, but it's always good to have it reaffirmed.

This coming week I'll attack those other two projects with a vengeance and get these pieces re-spot-glazed.  I'm grateful today that they're 4/5 finished, that my bout with the flu was short-lived (but oh!  I got LOTS of rest, which I needed), that my friends on the East Coast are safe and the hurricane packed less of a punch than we anticipated, and that I finally got a batch of okra pickled and processed.

Hope y'all have a good week.

watching and waiting

Last week was the first week of school, right on the heels of our beach trip.  It got massively, oppressively hot.  Then it got really nice and cool. As in, 80 degree days in which you can hang out in the yard with the chickens and a cool beverage in the evening sort of days.   I threw and threw and threw and ran out of clay last week.

My husband landed a new job after a long long long time of uncertainty and trying to keep everything together by the skin of our teeth.  It was hard, so now that it's over I've been having a bit of a post-emergency collapse.  Periods of resting and doing nothing, periods of remembering that I have a full fall schedule and will kick myself for watching Mad Men at noon on Monday.  It's not something that I'm used to (luxuriant laziness) and I'm not sure I like it.  I prefer being productive.

Having run out of clay, I fired several kiln-loads of green ware this week and am spending the last half glazing and firing it.  I'm getting more clay this weekend and next week will glaze my dinnerware set in one fell swoop.  I'm really excited about it- unglazed, it looks good.  Unfortunately, it is always the last firing that shows where the flaws are hiding- either through weakness in the clay or sloppiness in my glazing.  We'll see how that goes.

Summer is fleeting.  I'm ready for fall.

return

 

We've been back for almost a week and school's begun.  Our trip was filled with art, inspiration, rest, rejuvenation.  We were sorry to leave, happy to be back.  Still a little quiet around here.  Working steadily, wrapping projects up, beginning new ones.  

Captions: Walter Anderson Museum of Art, Ocean Springs, MS.  Community Center Mural

Beach glass

Ship Island, part of the Gulf Islands National Seashore

Bottlenose dolphins following the ferry

Last morning's low-tide beach combing expedition

look!

This is my favorite part of the weekend.  It's been excessively difficult, but this bee tree- a new colony, it seems- in my mom's yard seems to be a message of renewal and life in the midst of trial, struggle, and succumbing to the end. 

Thanks for your kind comments and support of my work and the direction in which I'm heading.  It means a lot.  Y'all mean a lot.

I'll be back here on Friday.  Have a good week.

a shift

I've been putting off listing my new pieces online - I didn't touch the pottery last week.  It has been sitting on a sideboard in the dining room, staring balefully at me every time I walk past.  I feel a little at odds with it and with my work as a whole, but I'm beginning to come to terms with it. 

For the past ten years I've been making pots.  I've been selling them at a price with which I feel comfortable.  I've reasoned that I can pay myself a certain rate per hour and factor the cost of my work by that rate- and it covers my expenses.  I've prided myself on making useful and above all, affordable work.  A lovely but expensive mug won't get used, I thought.  I want my work to be used and enjoyed every day.  So, as the costs of materials and utilities went up (oh, you should see my electric bill when I'm firing a lot), my prices stayed relatively even.  Over the years my coffee mugs have gone from $15-18, but nothing drastic.  I also know that as a, um, impoverished sort of person, money is tight, and that's almost universal right now.  $30 cup, or $30 for lunches for my family for a week.  I know the answer to that question.

This year, my wholesale orders have jumped.  You probably know how that goes, right?  I get $9 for that $18 mug?  Um, not so appealing.  So the mugs that my wholesale clients sell are higher priced, and if I sell those same mugs, I match their price so as not to undercut them.  I've tried to keep my prices at a level that I'd pay, but I've been uneasy about it.  I have a beautiful cup that I bought for well over $50.  A guest in my home asked about it when we were having tea and wanted to use it.  She asked me (because she was a very good, close friend, and we've dispensed with those barriers) about its price and promptly put it back on the shelf.  I understand that reaction, and it isn't one I'd like to see with my work.  There's a flip side to that- under-pricing work makes it disposable.  I get that, too.

BUT.  I'm experiencing a shift.  This work, like the cup above, is still pretty affordable.  But it is significantly more expensive than one of my botanical cups.  So I've put off listing the bowls and platters and pitchers, items that are regularly more expensive anyway, because I've been worried about (speaking collectively here) your reaction.  Not that it isn't good enough to fetch the price that I ask, and not that I don't deserve to be compensated for my work, but I've just been nervous.  This week I'm going to start listing them.  They do me absolutely no good sitting in my dining room, staring at me.  Actually, less good, because they're likely to get broken where they are now.  So these pieces will be special*.  They'll cost more.  But they take more time, more skill, more firings.  I think they're worth more.  I feel mostly good about this decision.

Several of these cups are already up on Etsy.  The one pictured above is going to its new home tomorrow.  The mugs that I used for my invitation will go up in another few weeks- they need another glazing and firing.  I won't be around here much over the next two weeks.  We're wrapping up summer, working hard, and sneaking in a beach trip before school begins.  I hope you enjoy the rest of your summer, too.



*They're also special because I'm setting aside a bit of each sale to finance my own urban bee hive next year.  And they're the pieces I'm making for my first invitational show this fall.  And they're special because I love them in a way that I don't love my other work.  Maybe because Melissa means "honey bee", maybe because I'm drawing them.  I'm not sure.