This Month at Green River Pottery: November 2007
The Big Picture
The first couple of heavy frosts of the season have visited, withering the morning glory leaves in the front garden, turning the tips of the cottonwoods yellow in the dry fall air. The busiest part of the season is over, in the gallery, and this is a time of year when I anticipate longer afternoons throwing, fewer interruptions, more time to dream up new projects and ideas. This is the part of the year that helps me stay creative as I have time to focus on the big picture: in which directions do I want my work, and my business, to grow?
A partial answer to this second question, as you may notice if you've visited before, is that I have re-designed and expanded my web site. Please bear with me as some of its features are still under construction!
‘First Frost ’, the pot of the month, was very exciting to see as I unloaded the recent firing on October 17. Up on the top shelf, in the hottest part of the kiln, the milky white underglaze had melted to a satisfyingly full extent. That glaze really needs a good flat cone ten to look its best. The blue stain I brushed on had fully seeped into the glaze underneath and become one with the surface. Sometimes a brushed-on design can look ‘applied,’ ‘added-on’ to a pot; it remains as a kind of decoration when the pot is finished. An afterthought. But when it really works, those brush strokes become fully integrated, part of the gesture of the piece itself, part of the form. This is why using the brush takes real presence of mind, full attention but spontaneity, too. It is a little like paddling a kayak in a rapid, where you have to be loose and responsive, yet very determined at the same time. As in the river, you only have one chance to do it right: those brush strokes, those colors and lines, can’t be erased. The moment passes. The brush reveals the quality of my interaction with the pot I’m making more boldly than other aspects of the pottery process such as throwing, trimming, glazing, or firing.
Next month I hope to be reporting on a firing I’m preparing for, now, that will only contain very large pots: fifteen or twenty pounds of clay or more. I have vowed to make no little pieces, no teabowls, plates, or tiny lidded jars. I’ll be ignoring the urge to fill all the nooks and crannies on the kiln shelves and letting myself focus, as this time of year urges me to, on the big picture.
