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Out
of the Fire
Every time I work on a large group of
pots, like the ones for this show, I discover (or rediscover,
sometimes) subtle new shifts in ideas about the way I want the pots to
look or feel. That newness makes it very exciting. The process of
making a pot (and the process of making a cohesive group of pots) is as
much of a thrill for me as the satisfaction with the resulting
object(s). While working, I’m constantly thinking, “What if I do this?”
or “What if I do that?” Much of that thought process is subconscious --
Letting technical aspects of making a pot flow into the thousands of
minute aesthetic decisions involved in each piece seems . . . I almost
say “wondrous”, but that seems a bit self self-absorbed. What I feel is
overwhelmingly lucky. I feel lucky that, for some strange reason, for
that moment, I can put all of the pieces together into something that
makes sense to me (and, perhaps, to you).
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Every Day, smoke-fired
clay and colored slips
Private Eyes , smoke-fired
clay and colored slips
Hard to Say, smoke-fired
clay and colored slips
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This past
summer and fall, I’ve found myself thinking more about the outer
surface of my pots. Looking out the window of my studio, I saw the
flowers blooming in the yard and many of the beautiful colors began to
appear on the pots – more graphic color than I had allowed in the past.
“What if I decide to let the pit-firing play a more subtle role?”, I
thought. “What if I pull the pots out of the fire
earlier and let the color assert itself rather than be subordinate to
the smoke?” I love the way the smoke plays with/against the color on
many of these pots in such a subtle way. I found myself noticing things
like how much this or that little green bit of color looks so nice next
to that spot of purple. Subtle shifts and discoveries in the studio
make potting so energizing and exciting for me. I hope that when you
see (and, more importantly, pick up and hold) my pots you can share
some of that energy. |
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