reminders

I go to ceramics because

  • it’s play

  • you can get lost in the mud of it all

  • v hot men and having eye candy is nice

  • long days in the classroom means I need to take care of myself more

  • glazes don’t make sense and I like a challenge

  • I learn a lot from not knowing something formally

  • that last one is another benefit of play

  • not knowing when pieces will be out

  • it forces me to slow down

Lulls

My hand built lid didn’t make it fully thru the kiln. It’s still functional as a lid, but wouldn’t be flush anymore with the base. As I made more fish with sophie we talked artistic processes. Ceramics is a different beast than my other mediums. So much is out of my control and on other people’s timelines.

I have to create work arounds and act in response to. Or accept that sometimes my lids will fall apart and my fish will turn out duller than I’d like.

With ceramics being more of an ongoing investment, unlike painting and collage, I feel a pressure to be creating. Historically if I felt that pressure I’d take a break, until joy came back to the process. When the work is inherently about grief, is there a space for this? There was never intended to be joy in the process, just relief. I’m left to question, am I feeling relief still?

a week of work

I spent my time at the studio last week trying to make a lidded compost pot. It’s organic and messy for organic and messy things. Some fish were made—attempts at clownfish but the orange didn’t pop like I would like. The parrotfish turned out beautifully.

A lot of my sculptural things didn’t translate in the glaze kiln or broke. This first one turned out beautifully.

The others had varying degrees of success. I wonder if I should’ve considered how to mount them to a wall before this point. Hindsight.