S Type Creative

I am the first to admit it, I have been away too long.

In the midst of expanding our assortment of artists, preparing our home for sale, packing the remainder of my studio at home, and traveling for a large project I’ve had hundreds of ideas to post about.  Tomorrow always seems to be the day to share my ideas since right now is so busy.  By tomorrow the fleeting ideas have disappeared and new ones have taken residence in their place.

Today turned my tide of silence.

Something monumental happened in the studio.

My studio assistant, Cody Gardner, carved out a couple hundred square feet of space and set up his ceramics studio.

New adjustable shelving, his almost new Clay Boss wheel, rigged up lighting, and considerably more organization than I expected have all come to fruition.  Tonight Cody threw his first pots in his new studio.  Sure, he’s made some in the back room amidst the piles of flotsam and jetsam.  Now, however, Cody has made his first pieces in his own studio, the space in which everything is where he wants it rather than where he’s told it should go.

A couple of high fives and excited exclamations not fit for polite ears later, we celebrated with a gigantic pitcher of jasmine green tea (granted, Joel was celebrating with a mug full of Victory Hop Devil Ale as he’s not so much the jasmine tea type of guy).

Joel and I watched as Cody quickly made a couple pots and mugs.  He makes the process look effortless all the while explaining why he is doing each step.

Never have I suffered under the delusion that ceramics are an effortless art.  Let me get that out right now.  It requires strength, determination, and an immense amount of control.  This is why I’m always so impressed with the artists able to make it look like it’s as easy as breathing.

Tonight was the night I learned exactly how strenuous an activity it is.  After demonstrations, coaching, and I fear a few disappointed shakes of his head Cody began teaching me to center a ball of clay on the wheel.

All the art instruction and experimentation I’ve gone through over the decades this is one process I’d never touched.  Since high school I have wanted to make something on the wheel but it never aligned properly with my schedule.  Tonight Cody opened the door, I stepped through, and now I need a dozen aspirin.

Petite and delicate are two adjectives that haven’t been used to describe me since early childhood, if ever.  Lame and pathetic are more to the point than I had hoped though. My task for the evening was to “get the feel for centering the clay on the wheel”.  It takes every muscle in my body.  I fear my body will reveal muscles I had forgotten about.  After approximately 15 balls of clay that centered with varying degrees of success I think I have the feel for centering the clay.  (Tomorrow will tell if it was a fleeting glimpse or not.)

Once I felt comfortable centering a tiny ball of clay I began the process of forming the clay into something functional.  All but one of the next 15 attempts turned into “flowers”, amorphous sea creatures, and flat out disasters.  I managed to shape one simple ball of clay into a bowl-like shape.

Starting at 10:30pm it took until 3:00 am to have a form worth taking off the wheel gingerly rather than dumping it unceremoniously into the 32 gallon trash can of recycled clay.

If you’re a potter, pay no attention to this madness.  You know what it was like your first time.  Ignore the details and the finishing.  It’s my first night. The lessons haven’t progressed to that point yet.

If Cody allows me to fire it because it has somehow escaped what I consider to be an inevitable flaw that will risk damage to other items in the kiln I may potentially have a functional bowl. Sure I’ll need my newfound strength to lift the heavy thing as it isn’t the refined thin walled bowl of the pros, but a bowl it is.

My bowl isn’t quite big enough for cereal or ice cream really.  It may hold some berries.  Better yet, maybe I could use it as an ashtray.  I could call it Frank.  No one’s ever used their first bowl as an ashtray named Frank before have they?

Speaking of ashtrays…I wouldn’t mind one of Joel’s ales and a good cigar right now but instead I’m going to tuck in for what is remaining of the night.  After I find that bottle of aspirin and my freezer pack for my aching shoulders that is.

Extra kudos to all the amazing potters I know who show their works here and elsewhere.  My love and admiration of your work has now expanded into an even deeper respect for your strength and control.  My morning coffee will be infused with the knowledge of the strength that went into its making.