Gone to pot...

Most of you know I've been taking a pottery class for the last year and half. I've also had lots of questions about what's involved, why I do it and how long it all takes. I'm going to start a series of posts over the next few weeks showing my attempt at making a chalice and paten for our Church (The Episcopal Church of St. Paul's in Chatham). We'll see how it goes.

These are my first attempts at chalices. They're weak, but noble first efforts. I kind of like the glazes, but some found them morbid. It is a brown clay base glazed with white and plum over it. The plum was put on the rim before glazing and ran down the sides and pooled on the bottom of the cup. I'm assuming the symbolism of dripping blood isn't lost on anyone.

One of problems with throwing pottery is you make a great deal of pieces that you simply don't like or can't use. Over time you learn to improve form and functionality of your work.

We have a shelf in a spare bedroom that periodically gets filled with cups and bowls that some how fall short. I'm often, lovingly, yet firmly, asked what we're going to do with all those pieces. So last December I boxed up approximately 25 pieces and brought them to our church for a Christmas bazaar. I should have thought ahead. These Churchfolk that I know and love bought many of my pieces. Let me be clear - I REALLY don't like these pieces. Now they periodically show up at coffee hour to hold muffins and cookies. I go to friends houses and the Mollo originals are sitting on coffee and end tables. The thought has gone through my head to bump the table and let them crash to the floor when no one is looking. So my goal is to make better pieces and give them to these friends - and hope that they will put the old ones in the back of a kitchen cabinet. Is it my desire to make the perfect pot, or just my love for getting dirty?

I do love throwing pots on the wheel. It requires all of your attention. No worrying about work or any of life's stresses. If you aren't focused, it is going to collapse. Plus it fulfills some deep childish desire to play in the mud.

.

Mud! Mud! Glorious mud!

Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood.

So, follow me, follow,

Down to the hollow,

And there let us wallow

In glorious mud.

-Michael Flanders and Donald Swan,

The Hippopotamus


The three following pieces are pretty early ones. I like the basic shapes, nothing glorious, but the glazes came out well.