The One I Almost Threw Away
When I work in the studio, Flow finds me. I enter that sweet distortion of the space-time continuum and lose track of temporal boundaries; this happens even when the place is hot and I feel weary.
After three classes at the pool—teaching two and guarding for one—I was wrung out. (A year ago I became certified instructor and began work with Aquamotion in Riverside.) My body felt like a limp, happy rag. Still, I wanted to show up for myself as a maker. Flow is so seductive!
Ceramic studio access has been mine this term as an enrolled student. Along with access to the studio I have had the benefit of an experienced teacher and the energy of undergrad students industriously toiling away when class is in session.
However, graduation this Sunday could mean all bets are off. We shall see. I could say: Make hay while the sun shines! Or, Work clay while my student status remains. (Sorry, I couldn't think of a clever rhyme.)
Patience & Process
I set to work to initiate and test the hump mold I made in class. Mold making is messy! But done well it can produce good things. After two weeks of "curing" and drying out, the mold was ready. Patience is part of process!
The swamp cooler installed in the studio years ago roared about the heat but the heat didn’t care. A sheen of sweat soon covered my skin as I rolled out slabs of clay.
Talk about a far cry from making my first bowl! December of 2021, I wore my grubby, trusty studio jacket and kept moving to shake off the chill. My hands worked the wet clay, but nothing could diminish the cold and gray that seeped into the quiet studio.
Mirroring the weather my skills were rather cold and tentative as opposed to being hot and honed like they are now. That first bowl took hours. I was working with a silky dark brown clay body that fires to almost black. It is a joy to handle—a good thing because I handled it a LOT!
Trial & Error
My process was so much trial and error. For one thing I didn't know that clay right out of the bag is just too wet to work well for hand building. For the wheel, great! For slaps, nope.
How best to roll out the clay? (I prefer rolling pin to slab roller), to what thickness? how long to let it sit and dry out a little?I learned by doing.
Centering the clay on the hump mold, smoothing the surface, surrendering to the organic edges instead of striving for precision.
Finally a bone dry greenware vessel ready for bisque fire. It survived! Then the glaze. What a disappointment! The clear gloss didn’t turn out in the way I hoped. Blah! I almost threw the piece away. Instead, I brought it home and put it on the shelf. Eventually, I used it for a serving of soup.
Tactile Bliss
That bowl felt so good to hold! The unglazed exterior rested on my palms and fingertips. Ahh! Such a satisfying texture. Talk about tactile bliss! The size and shape: perfect for hot soup. I felt like Goldilocks exclaiming, “This is just right!” Ken liked the almost-thrown-away bowl too. Good to know.
As the weather warmed, the bowl was ideal for green salads. Arugula, romaine, cucumbers, red onion thinly sliced, fresh strawberries, poppyseed dressing. Yum! Pictured above, it holds Ken’s lunch today.
Practice Practice Practice
Gradually, the making time dialed down from several hours to make a single bowl to making several bowls in a couple of hours. I made more and more and more. I brought finished work home. The eight ordinary cobalt blue soup bowls I’d snagged at thrift stores were released back into that stream.
When I posted pictures of the beautiful, bodacious bowls, I got bold. I named the price per piece. The images must have been appealing. One DM showed up requesting a set. Then another!
If you're wondering: The big bowls are $45/each, local pick up.
I LOVE sending my work to good homes!
Subvert that S**t
Something about the generous size and organic shape made me stop and think. So much of culture encourages women to be small, orderly, neat. Layer this with the long-entrenched message of the patriarchy—implied or direct—that real women sacrifice and even suffer by necessity. Care for others comes before and above care of oneself. Time to subvert that shit!!
These bowls have something to say! They celebrate sufficiency, taking up space, satisfied appetites. I call them: Women Who Feed Themselves.
And now exploration with a smaller size. All because I didn't throw out that first big bowl.
Click the image above for the reel I made of the studio process. Let me know what you think.
Now we wait. Patience and process, remember? How this iteration endures the kiln, how it feels when held, how it can be used, and what it wants to say—so many unknowns.
How sweet is that?!
Feel free to pass along these confessions of a process junkie. And thank you for your company & curiosity, friend!