They're Out!

This plate and low bowl look like someone vomited in them.

Olivia and I made a few pieces together at home and I brought them in to glaze the following week. She loves them!

The cat (glazed in pussy willow) and the 'rickety dog' as O calls him (glazed in smoky brown)

This is all of the stuff O and I made.

The pitchers! The glaze came out nice and even, no pock marks or crawling. I prefer the handle form on the right, but I don't like the plum glaze on the handle on the right.

The colors are plum on the inside and white on the out. The white is actually over the plum on the overlap.

Representationally, it is supposed to look like blood on the inside. Yes, I know that's a little morbid, but think of it as the blood and water mixing in the life and death of Christ.

The one on the left has an interesting loop on the bottom of the handle. I like the way that looks. Thanks Carla!

Another shot.

And of course, I'm continuing to make handleless mugs. I tried something different on the one in the front (right). I left my fingerprints visible. I think it is interesting to be reminded of the hands of the potter when you're using a glass or mug that was made mindfully.

The pitchers and their friends.

The newly opened kiln.

Fantasies and Taking One's Time: A Reflection on Pottery & Faith

Five years ago, Kim and I were losing our minds. We had six straight months of sleep deprived nights, the lack of proven parenting skills and frankly, very little sanity. In the midst of all that chaos, I was unloading my emotional baggage to someone I know and trust. After I had stopped talking, she looked at me and said, "So, what is your fantasy?" My response was to cock my head sideways like a confused cocker spaniel, "Huh?" I said. "When it all makes you crazy, what is it you dream of to escape the chaos?" she replied. With that explanation, I knew exactly what she meant. I blurted out, "I quit my job, take all of the money I can pull together and drive to Las Vegas in a convertible and join the World Poker Tour." There you have it. It became my personal fortress of solitude. I needed only to close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and in the midst of Olivia's screams, I could be playing poker.

Georgia is a much quieter baby. However, those moments are still there. Two days ago, on Christmas Eve, I was holding Gigi. She was crying. Actually, she was screaming. Olivia was at my side shaking Zingo, a game she received for her birthday a couple weeks ago. I was trying to get her to help me dress her for the five o'clock Christmas Eve service. Then the phone rang. My mother was asking me what time they should come over on Christmas day. I felt the sense of chaos creeping back. I realized in that moment what my new fantasy was.

I hung up the phone with my mother and closed my eyes. I took a couple of breaths and tried to hear past Gigi's cries and Olivia's calls to play Zingo. I had quit my job and was sitting in a pottery studio up in Provicetown. We lived on Commercial Street. I had a studio and gallery downstairs from an apartment with water views. I was alone throwing pots all day with a breeze blowing through the studio from the bay, right out the front door to the hustle of people walking down Commercial Street.

I opened my eyes and was back in the reality of caring for a two week old and a five year old. I was, for the time being, revitalized.

That fantasy also helped me realize how much I love pottery, how much I enjoy the process. Unfortunately, I only spend one evening a week at the studio. It isn't enough. There are those weeks when I feel the same about Church. Sometimes, Sunday mornings just aren't enough. Luckily, I have a key to the Church and can steal away to the sanctuary, even for 10 minutes of quiet reflection.

Pottery isn't quite that easy. While I could go for an additional evening, it would require several hours of commitment. Clean-up alone takes 20 minutes. This often results in rushing to get the most out of my two and a half hour studio time. The work should really dictate how quickly I progress with a piece. When I attempt to control the piece it usually results in disaster.

If you try to rush when making a plate and fail to compress the bottom (many, many times) it will likely result in a nasty crack after the bisque firing. If you trim a piece when it is to wet it will likely result in a gouged or warped finished product. If you try to rush the drying process and the piece dries to quickly or unevenly, it is prone to crack.

The drying process can be more stressful to clay than the kiln. I have written previously about my imagery of violence in the act of firing a piece of clay. While the drying process isn't violent, it can damage the more delicate aspects of your work. If not done properly, it can result in cracked edges and the separating of handles and added feet.

Long handles with multiple points of attachment are particularly vulnerable. If not covered properly, the clay at the two attachment points may dry at different rates. This may lead to breakage either at the joint or within the handle itself. One needs to ensure that the piece is adequately covered to minimize these risks. What you give up is time. There can be no rushing.

When we rush a piece we risk it cracking and we find ourselves having to start over at the beginning. I think our faith journeys have similar risks. If we rush through our time in prayer, community and thanksgiving, we risk arresting our spiritual development. Many of us stopped any spiritual growth when we were confirmed. As lay and ordained church leaders, we don't do a good job at keeping teenagers and 20-somethings engaged in a meaningful way in the church. Luckily, we tend to get them back when they have their own children in their late 20s and early 30s.

One needs to keep ones self engaged in reading texts that challenge us spiritually. And yes, we even need to make time for those adult education sessions. I know how precious time is. Trust me. However, we need these moments in community to help work out all that we've read. Remember, Jesus didn't show up to Thomas on a lonely road to disprove his doubt. He showed to Thomas in a locked room where all of the terrified disciples were hiding. I can't help but think Jesus did that on purpose. Thomas needed to be with his friends and peers to work out what he saw.

I read a recent post on a pottery blog that talked about how to slow the drying process on pottery. "For these vulnerable pieces, wrap the fragile part in a scrap of plastic to slow its drying rate to match that of the rest of the piece. Or apply wax resist to these areas for a similar result, if you don't mind the extra expense, production time and unwanted fumes during the bisque firing." One could say the same thing about our spiritual development. We only need change the nouns and verbs a bit. 'For these vulnerable pieces of our lives, wrap the fragile part in a community of faith to focus its development to match that of the rest of one's life. Or apply appropriate levels of education to these areas for a similar result, particularly if you don't mind the time spent in self-development and the challenging thoughts that will likely develop.'

All in good time.

In the midst of all the chaos, pottery continues.

I got a few things out of the kiln this weekend. I helped Carla load the kiln on Wednesday. Actually, I didn't do much - but it was fun. Loading the kiln is kind of like playing tetris. You want to try and maximize the space and get as many pieces on each shelf as you can, without letting them touch. Then you delicately put the shelf atop the pillars and start a new layer of working things out.

As usual, I saw an analogy to one's spiritual growth in the process of preparing the kiln. Each layer seemed like how we work something out and try to get the pieces of our pottery and our lives and our spiritual growth to work together and fit as well as possible. And sometimes, sometimes, it just isn't possible. Sometimes you have one big piece that you've worked for weeks on - and nothing fits around it. That's ok. Those pieces are just as important as the others - and perhaps it just needs it's own space to develop.

I tried something new this time. I glazed the tray above in a thin white glaze. Yes, it is curled at the edges and somewhat purposefully warped. The tree is painted with blue slip. I'm not much of a painter, but I like the color and concept. I may use the slip for painted bands on pieces in the future. Not a big fan of the piece overall - it will likely wind up at next year's St. Paul's Christmas Bazaar table. It's where all the pieces go that aren't garbage bound, but that I just don't have room for around the house.

I love how this turned out. It is a paten for a chalice that I made a few months ago. The glaze is deep and rich. I love it.

This came out really nice as well. It is white on the outside with plum on the rim and inside. The plum bled through a little on the base and the white turned a lovely orange hue as the chemicals mixed. It's a pretty small piece, but very nice.

Carla makes lots of these. Hers are amazing. This is best one I've done. It makes for a good utensil holder in the kitchen.

This was my big experiment. It didn't come out at all as I had intended. They never really do. But it is wonderful. It is a matte black base glaze with a large bulb (like a babies nasal aspirator) full of shiny black. The shiny black alone looks like a shiny gray metal. It looks very industrial. I like what it did on this bowl. I anticipate doing some platters and additional bowls like this in the future.

This piece is a gift for some friends. Shhh - don't tell them. It came out great - just as I'd hoped. It is a white base glaze with VC Bronze over it. When you're lucky it produces these hints of purple and blue. I was lucky.