Put a Lid on it

The pottery class finally came to an end tonight.  I am relieved (We get our evenings back!), somewhat triumphant, and a tad melancholy.  Did I accomplish what I set out to do?  Well let's see…

• Step out of my drawing comfort zone - check.
• Relearn wheel throwing - check (mostly).
• Create a bunch of nicely formed pots - eh, not so much.
• Fight bossy, perfectionist voice and accept wabi sabi - check, uncheck, check, uncheck...
• Add to the creative well - check.

Tonight we informally presented and critiqued our pieces.  A wonderful array of styles and skill levels were displayed.  It's interesting to hear artists (regardless of age and experience) explain their work - their disappointments and triumphs.  We are so much alike - generally too hard on ourselves.  I got a little windy explaining mine (kind of like this post).  The complementary and insightful comments of Josh and my classmates were much appreciated.

One of my first pieces - creating something a little bit lovely out of an oops.

One of my last pieces.  I'm quite happy with this dish and lid that actually fit together.

Everyone who knows I took this class asks if I'm taking another one in the spring.  The spring class focuses on throwing - probably should've taken that first.  Josh encouraged me to come back and I may consider it, but not right away.  Give me unlimited time, funds and a chef, then yes, I would.  If you've been following these posts over the past year, you know I'm not good with follow through.  I want to learn and master too many things and I have a hard time focusing on one.  Time to get back to pencils and brushes and see if the clay bug bites again somewhere down the road.

Oh. … sudden realization moment...

Criminy…. while typing "pencils" the thought came to me that I signed up for The Sketchbook Project... several months ago.  Oy vey.  That needs to be done and sent in by January 15.  My husband asked me last night what was next on my artistic agenda since my class is ending.  At the time I said "Not sure, I think I'll work through one of my drawing books."  Well, I guess I just found my next project - at least until mid January.

PS - I'm never doing NaBloPoMo again.  More writing - less arting - not good.

PPS - Homework is for the birds, or maybe just young degree-seeking college students.

Magical Hot Box

I helped load the kiln tonight.  There's a whole lot of time and creativity on these shelves.  Two of my pieces are visible - tear drop vase on the very bottom and the similarly shaped jar & lid at the front of the second shelf.  It will be like Christmas when the door is opened again to a riot of color.

Before the magic happens.

All Glazed Over

We unloaded the kiln from last week's firing tonight.  Then it was the last time to glaze - last chance for artistic expression possibilities.  The final evaluation will happen sometime soon.

When it's Cold

My fan club also follows me in the snow - but only if it's not too cold or windy.  

They are wimps.

Trying to sweep the steps with "helpers."

Daisy generally ignores Milo in the house, except when he ambushes her from the couch.  

On the rare occasions he is allowed outside, she keeps a watchful eye on him.

Nap time follows snow time.  

This moment was in between cat teasing dog and cat declaring lap time.

Art update:  I learned how to repair pottery tonight since one of my rejoined pots un-joined while moving it after firing.  Once again - learning new things starts out with anxiety and ends with a nice feeling of accomplishment.  I really need to stop fighting the learning process.

HobKnobbing

I sat at the potter's wheel again this afternoon - outside of class time.  The wheels are off limits in one week so we can focus on firing and glazing and finishing up the semester.  I don't know if or when I'll have this chance again, so there will be much throwing this week.

The last assignment is lidded vessels.  I created a casserole dish Tuesday - first the dish, then a lid and finally some knobs.  We're instructed to create a few different knobs for each pot and pick the one that fits best.  Let me just say... I LOVE THROWING KNOBS!  Why?  They're small, have no walls and you can sculpt endless forms from spinning clay.  I want to create knob after knob after knob.  I wish there were more uses for knobs.  Everyone I know would receive Christmas knobs.  You get the idea. 

These were rejects for the casserole dish.  Linda suggested carving patterns on the bottoms and use the bisqued knobs as stamps.  Nice.

Artist Pants

I threw a casserole dish then spray glazed a few plates in class tonight.

Someday they will be paint-splattered artist pants.

Throwing Dishes from the Roller Coaster

Okay - someone please find the roller coaster operator.  He's been away eating deep-fried Twinkies too long and it's time to give the riders a break.  Oy vey.

Life itself is one heck of an amusement ride (not always so amusing), but lets just focus on ART360 and yesterday's up/down-fest.  Our most recent lesson was bowls and sgraffito.  I finished the sgraffito carving on my split & rejoined bowls yesterday.  When you see the pictures, yes, the bowl is supposed to be noticeably grafted together.  I thoroughly enjoyed the carving and scraping.  Then, as usual, I was dreading moving on to the next lesson - throwing plates.  I was just getting the hang of bowls!  Why do we HAVE to move on?  Well, you know what I love about plates?  Plates don't have sides that go up!  My issues with wobbling off center as the sides get higher is not an issue with plates.  Yahoo!  I created one rather decent plate and am looking forward to Thursday's class.  However, we also will be making and using stencils for the first time.  Sigh.  Another new method to learn.  More angst of the unknown. I'm sure I'll be fine again when I figure out what I'm doing.  I only wish there weren't so many downs between the ups.

Photos from the classroom:

The dark side will be black.  The lighter side will turn dark blue when fired and the stoneware will show through where the leaves and stems are carved away.

There has to be some kind of metaphor here with bowls cut apart and grafted together to make something interesting and lovely.  It's not coming to me now.  Maybe when that slacker ride operator gets back I'll figure it out.

Midterm Eval

I have not felt artsy lately.  Life has thrown wrenches at us from multiple angles and I want to pull the covers over my head and ignore the world.  Actually, I'd rather ride off on the Harley with my man to a quiet inn with big soft beds and then hide under fluffy covers with bowls of shredded chicken nachos and hot fudge (separate bowls) and peak out only to watch a Monk marathon or the Carol Burnett Show or The Princess Bride on repeat.  Now I have my husband's chest cold.  And, it's too hot outside.  And, it's too windy.  I'm a grumpy lump and I'm venting here.  Apologies.  The point of this is that the stress makes me want to skip pottery class.  However, I go because I paid for it and I know it's good for my artist soul regardless of how the day went.

This week is the halfway mark of the semester.  Tuesday night we were asked to write an evaluation of what we've done so far - struggles, achievements and such.  Here's a completely different self-evaluation.

• The pottery wheel is a sadistic medieval torture device disguised as a fantastic art tool ... centered, not centered, centered, not, good, not, sigh... another wonky pot.
• There are numerous types of clay and all respond differently on the wheel.  I'm overwhelmed.
• Working alone is my preferred modus operandi.  I'm a hermit.
• Carving into the clay has been the absolute best part of the class.  I'm a sculptor.
• I am relatively boring.  I have not died my hair, pierced anything beyond my earlobes, or sat in a communal hot tub with established artists.  (Please feel free to participate, just not my thing.)
• I am messy - always leaving with clay or glaze on my clothes.  I didn't really just learn this.  I've just decided to embrace it.  I'm a slob.
• I would love to continue working with clay (sans wheel) and hope to figure out a way to do this.

So, I'm an overwhelmed, sloppy hermit who likes to draw and sculpt.  To be honest, the last class went exceptionally well.  I created two mostly centered bowls, scraped clay off my Mishima design and participated in a Raku firing that was an excellent smoky distraction.  All in all, it's a good experience with some expected frustrations.  I'm looking forward to the second half of this adventure.  Really, I am.

Hot Flashes & Reading Glasses

I am, of course, the eldest student in my pottery class.  A few gray hairs and wrinkles give me away, but hey now - I'm not out of my 40's yet people.  Some issues are not so apparent - like the ignored back pain last week while moving from throwing wheel to sink.  Back: "Oh, OW, stop moving!  That hurts!"  Brain: "Suck it up creaky old pansy."

Then there's the badly timed cooling failures.  I hesitated relaying this story.  The dreamer and the realist had a little chat first.  "What will younger readers think?"  "Young readers?  Really?"  (uncontrollable giggling)  "What about the guys?"  "Guys - as in men? ... reading this blog about art & stuff?"  "Yeah, there might be one every now and then." (laughter - can't talk - tears streaming)  "But it makes me feel old."  "So what?"  Thus, the realist convinced the dreamer to just do it already & stop being a nitwit.

Back to the busted thermostat.  I inherited my mother's obnoxiously sensitive body & hormones.  That means I get to go through the M word a little on the early side of normal.  Yup, menopause.  There, I said it.

Now, imagine sitting at a pottery wheel - in a circle of pottery wheels manned by kids who's parents I could've babysat.  La dee dah - how nicely the clay is responding...do dee doo... um... getting a little warm in here ... nobody else notices... hmm, yeah getting hotter ... aaand FWOOOOM!  75° in the room, but my furnace kicks in to, oh, lets say it's about ... 800 million degrees.  Tiny sweat beads form on the forehead, chin & back.  Don't let 'em see you sweat.  Casually pat back of hand to the forehead & chin.  Furnace shuts off & we're back to pretending we're young again.  Whew.

The latest event involved the reading glasses mentioned last fall.  We've been carving patterns into pots the past week.  Most of my carving was finished at home - with my reading glasses on.  Class time last night was strictly to finish up our carving.  I spread out my tools and picked up the pot ... "If you want this to look halfway decent, you know what you have to do."  (realist - she's so annoying)  Sigh.  Glasses on.  Maybe I look wise.  Yeah, we'll go with that.

Centering - or - How My Daughter Inspired Me

Yesterday, after a few frustrating hours in the ceramics room, I wrote the following:

I HAVE been drawing, not enough, but I have.  I drew in a hospital waiting room yesterday.  More sketches will appear soon, but no photos ready at the moment. 

The pottery class is not only a kick in the pants, it is kicking my butt.  Frustrations galore.  I want to love it.  I already lost my mojo at the wheel.  Sometimes fine, but mostly lopsided aggravation.  Sigh.  I also don't know many of the standard procedures - like where certain tools are that haven't been discussed yet, but everybody else seems to know what they're doing.  They create much nicer pots and are at ease in the room.  Understandable, since most have taken this class at least once before.  It's like a dream where everyone knows what's going on and and you are clueless. I was there for 3 1/2 hours today working on my own - resulting in 2 small off-center cylinders and a few hesitantly stamped and carved pots from last week.  No mojo.  No comfort level (except while carving shapes out of one of the pots).  I feel ancient and challenged.  Rant over.  I'm sure it will get better as we go.  After all, there have been only 4 class periods.  Gotta' work on the patience level. 

Time to stop sulking and go sit at the "studio" desk.

My husband arrived home at that point and I clicked save.  A few dominoes fell after I closed the laptop.

First, I didn't go sit at the desk.  It was supper time and we decided to eat out.  Second, when we returned I noticed a package on the steps - a box of new art materials expected next week.  Woot!  I now have the supplies needed for two free online classes from Strathmore.  There was also a new sketchbook I couldn't resist after reading Shari Blaukopf's post about her Hand·Book sketchbook and Cretacolor graphite pencils.

Then, this morning I woke to a text from my daughter.  She had sketched in the wee hours of the morning - the second night she has done so & a new event for her.  I'm delighted she has been inspired.  Finally, one family member has taken advantage of my gifts last Christmas.


This was a reminder of how badly I've been slacking off with the daily sketching.  Spurred on by the new tools and especially my daughter's drawings, I sketched while watering the garden.  It doesn't change the status of my pottery skills, but it's nudged the journey back on track.

Remind me to do this again tomorrow.

Getting My Hands Dirty

I have a couple of boot prints on my derriere.  The previously anticipated kick-in-the-pants events have occurred.  Because life is not terribly orderly - second kick first...

I casually told my husband, "I want to take the evening pottery throwing class on campus."  He said "But, that's not drawing."  "Yeah, but I want to try it again.  Plus, we get to etch and stuff on the pots."  I grinned.  He didn't object.

I logged into the enrollment page, then hesitated.  "You're not a college kid anymore. It's expensive.  You're busy.  Think how awkward this will be.  It's at supper time."  A kind voice from the TV interrupted the cranky voice.  Some guy was encouraging a friend to do as much as you can in this life.  Ignore the fear and go for it.  Okay already!  I signed up and paid my tuition.

Last night, loaded to the gills with trepidation and jitters and such, I walked into the familiar yet foreign ceramics room I left in the mid 80's.

Brief introductions (name, major & year) by all.  I was last.  "I was a senior in 1987."  Sheesh - none of these kids were even around then.  There were two fun-loving older ladies in many of my college studio classes.  I got a kick out of them, but they were "old."  That's me now.


We gathered our supplies and sat down at the wheels.  "I feel completely lost..." Yeah, I said that out loud to our professor, Linda.  The unwieldy lump of clay bumped around under my hands as the wheel spun.  It mocked my centering efforts.  Good grief - why did I sign up for this again?  My first pot was stumpy, lumpy and wiggly.  Linda was very complimentary and told me it was similar to a certain style of Japanese pots.  I can't remember the word she said, so I just went on a little google search.  It may have been wabi-sabi, which is all about imperfection and not just pots.  Anyway, I set my junior high pot aside and started on the next lump.

This time Josh, our graduate assistant teacher, watched my lop-sided beginning and recommended better hand positions and increasing the wheel speed.  Suddenly, it was a little easier.  I kinda' remember the feel of this now.  I think I can do this.  I kept pulling up the clay, not really sure if I should keep going or call it done.  The clay decided for me.  The thin sides did this odd flippy thing.  Linda told me "It's beautiful just like that."  Hmm, it was interesting.  I put the floppy-topped form in the drying area and grabbed a big lump for another go round.










I took my time with the next one.  The spinning form was much less bossy with my fingers.  "I think you're remembering now."  Yup.  Oh, I most definitely am still a beginner, but at least I could shape the turning clay without it wobbling off on it's own.

Within a couple of hours, I'd traveled down my well-worn creative path - excitement, fear, doubt, irritation, realization, perseverance, in-the-groove-ness.  I'm relieved to have moved beyond the first few stages - doesn't happen often enough.  I imagine many people fight this when trying anything new, creative or not.  It's too bad.  LIVE your life.  Don't be a spectator.

Next time - the first kick in the pants.