Good Friday

It is a gray and rainy and cold day today. Indoors, though, we can still enjoy beauty. And there is also beauty outside. It's just not so apparent when one is hoping for warmer weather, and a real opportunity to get back outside.

I'm not a believer in the religion of my youth, but I do believe in renewal, second chances (and third and fourth) and the fresh hope that spring brings. . . and all of that lush explosive Green that is coming soon.

Once more into the garden. . .

Daffodils

It's been a tough couple of weeks in terms of weather and politics. While Maine's winters always extend through March, this year is harder than the past four. I think it's because the cold started so early and never really relented. But. Spring will come. The daffodils are full of self confidence as they poke through the duff, ready to Put On A Show. Soon. Not quite yet.

We had some winter damage this year. And for the first time deer took a toll. John thinks it may have been because this was the first year Jasper wasn't here. He's also blaming the abundance of turkeys on Jasper's absence. It's possible. Jasper never chased any of them, but I'm sure his scent was everywhere. I miss him still. I wonder if having his image everywhere makes things worse, but I love to look at him. Half of the benefit of having a dog is just having something so beautiful with you. And so graceful. 

But I digress.

Winter damage on Rhododendron

We had some of the same damage on the rhododendrons as we had last year, though not as bad. Given that it was a harsher winter temperature-wise, I'm thinking that it may indeed be wind damage. The plants opposite are much more exposed than the other ones by the house, under the Copper Beech that are mostly unharmed.

Deer damage on Columnar Plum

We also had what I think is deer damage this  year. Our columnar plum, which I planted 3-4 years ago, and has finally started to take it's columnar form (with much encouragement from my pruning shears) is very likely to die. She is girdled. It's odd that this tree, against the house, suffered more damage than the more distant fruit trees.

Deer damage on Stanley Plum

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I also made a mistake by thinking that southwest injury was the only threat to the fruit tree trunks in winter. The Stanley plum, above, was damaged, though it will likely heal up. I'm hoping. My thought was that the plastic wraps I have used for the past 4 years are a pain to use and store, and I know that growers often paint the trunks with white latex paint to protect from southwest injury. 

Apple buds

Southwest injury happens when there is bright sun, but cold conditions (common in Maine). The tree trunks heat up during the day (with no leaves to shade them from that wonderful sun), but when dark comes temperatures plummet quickly and split tree trunks. =dead tree. Because we hadn't seen many deer in the yard, I didn't consider that the plastic wraps were also protecting them from the deer. Sigh. Lesson learned. Next year I'll go back to the wraps, and take my licks this year.

 Most plants are still holding out for longer days and/or warmer weather.  Apples, plum and peach still have their buds locked up tight. Blueberries too. 

Blueberry buds

Plum buds

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But others are less circumspect, if not giving in completely to that desire to leaf out. 

The honeysuckle is one such plant (on an arbor by our patio,) and the hellebores are in serious negotiations. 

Hellobore

Rhubarb peeks out

Meanwhile, the rhubarb is poking through, cold be damned, and the wild geraniums are showing their optimism as well. Both of those latter plants are pretty cold tolerant, so I figure they know what they're about.
 

When I was a student at the University of Maryland, I had a plant ID class that required us to start going out into the wild and identifying plants in February. It was astonishing to me, a very green student (forgive the pun), how many things were starting to grow in the forests in that Maryland area. By March, I had identified and collected many forest floor plants, including trout lily, which I had never noticed before. It was amazing that I had always perceived that spring had not arrived, when it fact it had. One just had to look for it. 

Wild geraniums (Cranesbill)

 

 

 

[Note: Sorry about the formatting strangeness of this post. Sometimes Blogger makes it very hard to manipulate images and text. . . ]

After the visit to warmer climes. . .

After a visit to Texas, where temperatures were moderate enough to wear a dress and dog-walking shoes. . . ONLY. . .we're back in Maine. We had a couple of days in the 50's and 60's, but now were back to our normal 30's, and 40's if we're lucky. March in Maine. Not so bad, though I was glad for a couple of days reprieve.

And it was time, at last, to face the kiln opening. Things turned out ok. I made this oblong vase by throwing the top-without-a-bottom, and then forming it into any oval when leather hard. I like the form a lot. And the glazing is ok, though not what I had expected. I sprayed on the two glazes rather than dipping because I wanted a white liner on the inside. This is the speckled brown clay, and it is definitely a rustic looking vase. At 6" tall and about 7" long it will be perfect for some of the shorter spring bulbs. I should call it "Waiting for tulips". 

I was happy with the results of these Calla Lily mugs, too. Neither quite equal the Favorite Mug (referred to in an earlier post). . .one is larger and the other smaller, but they both feel good in my hands. The clay is also, again, the Speckled Brown. I'm out of that clay now, so it will be white stoneware, porcelain and terra cotta for a while. Funny how I approach my clay bodies the way I approach cooking. "What do I need to use before moving on to something new?"

And then there were the three rice bowls. Daddy, Momma and Baby bears. The two on the right are close in size, but the far left bowl, which I threw last, is noticeably larger. It's ok. This was a skill building exercise. And once again, I'm so conscious of waste, that I didn't want to cut down that last bowl to make it equal in size to the others. Notice also that the clay body (seen on the bottom unglazed rim) is white stoneware for the outside bowls, and the brown specked for the middle one. I like the less stark transition of the darker clay, though its roughness can be felt. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.

This mug was an attempt to make a previous mug (also in an earlier post) smaller. This really highlights my perhaps ridiculous search for the Perfect Sized mug. Oddly, I thought I had reduced the size of both the circumference and the height by 1/2", but the mug remained stubbornly slightly larger than I had hoped.

 Perfection really is the enemy of good. 

Waiting for the kiln to cool. . .

 

I've got about a half an hour before I can open the kiln and see if my glazing efforts have, once again, gone rogue. But I'd thought I'd share a few seasonal thoughts. The first is that my impatience with snow and cold is starting to surface. It's really too early for that, because in Maine, March is just another winter month. Still it has its moments. Westerners tend to think that they have a lock on beautiful sunsets, but we have our fair share, too. And while grand vistas are often preferred by some, I love seeing the sky through the trees. . . this time of year, with the leaves off the deciduous trees, a lot can be seen.

To the right is the state-of-the-moment in our yard. According to our snow measuring device (a stick in the ground), we still have 11" on the ground. You can see in this image where John has snow blown a path for me so I can get to the bird feeders without getting snow down my boots. But look closer, and you'll also see a path that the turkeys have made. They're all over the yard, and are really fun to see. Many have impressions of their feathers on the sides of the trough. . .probably from when they were frightened and either flapped their wings or took off.  

This little troupe has become a regular attraction at out feeders, often walking on my birdseed delivery trails. It's hard to appreciate how big they are, but they are at least as tall as my hip. They walk like Egyptians, run like little children (including the yelling), and fly like they're not quite sure it will work. But their feathers are extraordinary. Some are iridescent black, some brown striped, and their neck feathers are small and arranged in very orderly rows. I'd like to do a series of paintings on enamel that show the beauty of animal markings up close. So close that you can't really tell what it is. A sparrow's subtle pattern of browns, a chickadee's body/wing, a chipmunk's stripes. They're all much more complex than one might think, and likely beyond my skill level. No worries. Most of our skill levels lack that of nature. Off to Texas in two days. . .

 

Not quite there. . .

The good news is that the lid and bottom of the butter dish still fit, even after firing them separately. The bad news? I think the glaze color is just fine. A little bit "meh". 

Still. A useful replacement for the earlier broken one. And not completely embarrassing.
 

The bowl adventures continue. The bowl below is pretty close to the one I made for my Grand Son for his birthday, though I used a white stoneware rather than the more rustic Brown Speckled. I don't like that lower unglazed foot as much as I do on the less contrast-y brown speckled clay, but it's a perfectly usable and technically proficient bowl. It's a good 6" across, so it will make a good rice or noodle bowl. I've thrown another one that is the brown speckled, but it's still in the greenware stage.

Now. Back to replacing my favorite mug. We're not there yet, and I am aware of my more-than-exacting standards for a favorite mug now.

The two hand built mugs in the previous post were glazed. The cone shaped mug has one more firing to go, but the other one is shown below. 

I like this mug. The brown speckles come through nicely with the green matt glaze, and I like the mixing of the 3 glazes, with the top dipped in Arctic Blue and Ancient Jasper. It also feels good in my hand.

There is discussion among potters as to whether a mug handle should easily accommodate all 4 fingers, or 3 fingers, with the little finger on the outside. I know. We really have bar fights about this sort of thing. One potter said that women generally prefer to have their pinky out, and men prefer all four fingers underneath; but my sample doesn't support that. I find I naturally accommodate any mug that I love, though I do like a smaller more graceful handle than the one on this mug.

What I also am not crazy about is that it feels just a little too large. The next one will be the same clay, but I'll make it 1/2" smaller in circumference, and maybe also 1/2" shorter. The search for the perfect mug continues.

The bottoms of the mugs are shown here too. It's not terrible easy to see, but I think you get it. It's the same philosophy as putting something lovely on the back of a brooch or pendant. The wearer/user knows it's there. It's like the smug satisfaction one gets from wearing good underwear. I know. I say that too much. . .

Winter settling

First, the studio report. I decided to continue with some handbuilding via this butter dish. It's still greenware (in the kiln to bisque as I type), but I was pleased. I accidentally broke another butter dish. There is a lot of that going on these days. That piece was a very early piece that I had made in a class. It resembled a coffin, and I think this one is a little less suggestive. The lid fits perfectly, which always makes me a little nervous. What if firing alters that? Well. We'll see.

I made some truly terrible rice bowls a couple of years ago, and I've been wanting to replace them ever since. The success with my Grand Son's bowl gave me confidence. This bowl is also pretty large. . . 6" diameter. . and I'll try to make one to match in size, if not glaze. I've found that I love this glaze in bowls, but not as much in smaller items like mugs. I'm not sure why. It looks a little ponderous on smaller pieces?
 

 

We finally went skiing recently. We hadn't skied since prior to Covid (in Idaho), and 7 years later I can say honestly that I doubted our abilities. But we were fine. The snow was incredible (15 or more inches in the past 10 days or so), the hill peopled but not crowded, the blue hills just our speed (ok, a little challenging), and we were able to keep our legs under us. Mostly. We did discover that those muscles you use while skiing don't keep themselves.

The ski hill we went to (about an hour and a half west of us) had a beautiful lodge. John had bought the lift tickets prior, and we went to a machine, he scanned a QR code, and it spit out our lift tickets. Easy. Things have either changed a lot in 7 years, or the East is ahead of the West on such things.

There was also a beautiful pub for apres. Yay. I had forgotten how it feels when you are THAT tired, but so relaxed. I also revisited that place where all of your focus is on the 10 feet in front of you as you go hurtling down a hill on skis. Right, left, right, left. Pay attention. Keep your head in the game. No political turmoil, no end-of-democracy thoughts, no worry about the children. Keep you head in the game. 

There was also a large stone fireplace on the first floor of the lodge. It was reminiscent of Sun Valley, not of our Boise local hill. 

I didn't learn to ski until I was in my late 40's, and I had also forgotten what a gift it was to actually look forward to winter. We'll go again. I'm not sure how many more winters I'll be able to ski, but best keep it going as long as possible.

 

Meanwhile, back in the studio. . .

Calla Lily Mug

I loved this mug. Completed in 2024, I have used it as My Favorite mug ever since. I love the colors and the glaze. Yes. I love this glaze. It was just the right size, about a 3" diameter, and 4 1/2" tall, and the handle was generous. But. The handle was also the weak point. I like the style of it, but it was on the thin side. Still, it never let me down until I knocked it with a ceramic coaster a couple of days ago. The handle broke into 2 pieces. 

I've left a lot of possessions behind in my 71 years. Just Stuff. But there are a few things that are more than stuff to me. Fortunately they are all small objects. This was one of them. I've made mugs since that had these components;  the calla lilies, the glaze,  the form, but this particular mug was always my favorite. It's funny how very subtle differences can alter one's feeling about an object.

Broken handled mugs

It is the nature of ceramics objects that they break. It is a marvelous material in many ways, but nothing about it is permanent unless it's put away and not used. And that's never my intention.

So. Now I'm on a quest to make a "perfect" mug. Maybe thrown, maybe hand built. I don't know. Even when one takes notes (which I don't often do), it's hard to reproduce an item, so the new one will have to be Something Different.

Thrown and appliqued mug

First, the utter failures. The above are two hand built mugs. I used a new handle technique that I had seen on a YouTube. Needless to say I won't use it again. I think I made it thinner than I should have, but I don't like the lack of grace of these handles anyways. 

The mug to the left is ok. It's got a nice feel to it, is appropriately thin at the base, and interesting. The proportions don't feel quite right to me, though. It's 3 1/4" wide, and 4 1/4" tall. Too wide for it's height, I think. So that's not it.

Cone-shaped mug

The next two mugs are still unfired greenware. I wanted to experiment with the cone shape again. Early experiments with this form were not successful, but I have a better handle on hand building now.

I still like the idea of a simple cylinder mug (below), but it has to be exactly the right proportions to work. Well, it doesn't, but that's what I'm looking for. I've made a bunch of cylinder mugs that were either a little too narrow, a little too short, or not quite a pleasing proportion. And what with varying clay shrinkage rates, it's hard to predict how it will work out. The mug below was just made this morning, so it is super green.

Simple cylinder mug

Finally, how about a couple of successes? What? That never happens. 

I decided to make some tiles, using varying techniques, all of which would be flat.

This idea comes from a very pragmatic place. Some friends of ours are uncomfortable with my carved porcelain coasters. I love them, but also get that not everyone likes the uneven surface, even though drinks do sit on them evenly.

First, the original tiles, aka coasters:

Carved Porcelain Tiles

These were so fun to make. I started with porcelain slabs, let them dry to leather hard, and then carved into them. Then, I made a plaster cast of the leather hard tiles so I can make them again and again if I so chose. The porcelain is fired to full vitrification, so it is as tough as it can get, and I love the look of the unglazed vitrified porcelain. It looks pure, right?

But. On to something with a level surface.

Both techniques are borrowed from my vitreous enameling toolbox. The tiles below are screen printed (screens I made myself years ago for enameling) using either a wet colorant (engobe), or a fine powder colorant called Mason Stain. After bisque firing they are glazed with a sage green celadon (transparent) glaze.

Screen Stoneware Tiles

The Mason stains (tree root tiles) were a pain to work with, because they were still loose after the bisque firing. This means they were Very Easy to smudge before the final glaze was sprayed on. The engobe was much easier to work with, but messier. Always something.

Because the celadon glaze is very shiny after firing, I had to etch it with a very nasty material to remove the shine, and make the surface less slippery. 

Speckled brown clay tiles with decals

The tiles below are a brown speckled stoneware. They were glazed with a matt white glaze, and then a decal (that I made, also for enameling) applied and refired at a lower level to fix the decal. The glaze actually absorbs the iron oxide in the laser printed decal. Cool, huh?

Both techniques are a success. The tiles feel so good in one's hands. . .cool and smooth and substantial.

So. Failures are great for learning and heartbreak, but everyone needs a success from time to time.

 

 

 

Treacherous Beauty

 I decided to hike on the Messalonskee Stream Trail today. I don't often go there anymore, even though it's close. Jasper's absence is always most apparent when I'm hiking in the woods. His joy, his engagement, was always mine too. And even though I don't feel unsafe when I walk alone, I used to feel so safe when he was with me.

We've had a couple of light snowfalls in the past few days. It is so beautiful in these woods, and once up into the trail, the snow absorbs any sound so that the silence seems to have its own presence. Unfortunately, the snow came on top of a freeze-thaw-freeze cycle, which means that the light dry snow overlays solid ice flows, making walking treacherous. It is particularly dangerous in areas where the trail is no longer level. Even my beloved crampons can't overcome the slipperiness, because the snow prevents the crampons from digging in. So I didn't hike my usual 3 mile there-and-back, but stopped at the 2nd bridge, which is over a usually noisy stream. But it is silent now. It is completely iced over.

The snow lays heavier on the hemlock branches than I first thought. It's not heavy enough to break them, though that's always a concern.

I am finding this winter harder to bear than previous ones. . .this is our 5th winter in central Maine. The weight of international and domestic events, and the overwhelming mean and foolish behavior of our country is taking such a toll. I am tired and sad and frustrated. And for the first time, I am often cold. I love dressing for winter. . .I love handmade wool sweaters, socks, mittens and hats. So this feeling cold is new for me. Between the heat generated with hiking and being appropriately dressed, I rarely experience cold. But standing in protests with a sign for an hour or two leaves me chilled to the bone, metaphorically and physically.  

Sorry to be less than cheerful. I am wishing you all, at the very least, metaphorical warmth. 

And an admonishment to myself to live like a dog. In this very moment.

 

 

Moon Shadows

Winter has brought some exceptionally cold days. Single digits and icy walkways hardly beckon, but moon shadows do. On our nightly postprandial walks these tree shadows on the white snow are ethereal. I try to let myself sink into them. 

I am lucky enough to live in a world of beauty. Some of it I make (or try to), but much of it is all around us. It's just waiting for us to immerse ourselves, take a deep breath, and hold onto a moment, however briefly.

Like trying to catch the sight of a dappled forest in summer, the camera doesn't do a great job of capturing this image. The fact that it surrounds you may be part of that, but I think that the objective eye of the camera is just not up to the multiple sensory components our bodies take in. The deep breath (cold fresh air), the cold nose, the warm mittens, the crunch underfoot . . . the whole bit. 

And the quiet. 

 

Pottery again

I have a number of things to finish up in the studio before the Solstice holiday begins in earnest. This is a bowl (cereal/ice cream sized)  I made for one of my Grand Sons. I ordered a speckled brown cone 5-6 clay from a supplier in New Mexico (via Amazon of all things) because I could get a smaller quantity (25 pounds as opposed to 50), and have been unhappy with the moisture level of the clay from a more local supplier. The speckles are from the clay. The glaze, I think, is close to divine. Three glazes, actually. I used this combination on several pieces. And yes. You did read that correctly. I like the glaze.

In contrast, I am not so happy with the glaze on the oblong dish. It was supposed to be a Copper Matt, and you can see that it is really Not Matt. Shiny appeals to a lot of folks, but I really prefer a matt finish, especially when there is so much texture in the piece. The glare detracts from it, in my opinion. But I know less all the time, it seems.

I've been working on consistent throwing by making these medium sized bowls. . .more snack than cereal size. I should really just measure them, shouldn't I? Anyway, again the glaze I really like, but notice the difference on that middle bowl. . .in both the glaze and the size.

No speckles, of course, because the middle one is porcelain. But it also shrunk more, and the lip was slightly deformed after firing. Not a big deal. Just instructive if I can remember it.

Below is the first tall vessel I threw as a result of taking Bill Van Gilder's "Throwing tall" online class. The piece is heavier than I'd like, but it's ok for a 4th try. The others went back into the clay bucket. It's a case of "Hate the glaze, love the glazer". Well, maybe don't love her, but don't hate her as much as the glaze might suggest.
 

Finally, I've been messing around with making some tiny birds (and a bunny) for the tree that I made for the holiday. These are fun little pieces, and I learned a lot from making them. For one thing, I need to put a loop on the end of the nichrome wire that's embedded in them so I can hang them to glaze them in the kiln. Always an issue. Glaze sticks to the kiln, so I left the bottoms unglazed, but the loop thing would let me glaze the entire piece. These guys are about 1.25" long. Very small. Very fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's been especially cold, but I have a space heater in the studio, and it's such a pleasure to immerse myself in the making. The garden is resting, the heated bird bath stopped heating today, and I do worry about all of those tiny birds keeping warm enough. I know they evolved with this weather, and it simply amazes me that they survive Out There. Stay warm, Sweethearts. 

The world between the worlds. . .

Kissing ball with Everlasting Mistletoe

It's that time between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I usually really enjoy bringing out and making all of the holiday stuff. This year, however, all I can think about is how much I miss having Jasper to supervise. I am so glad that we'll spend the solstice/Christmas with our youngest. I think it would be terrible to be home with WeTwo, rather than WeThree.

I decided that my usual swags were too much effort this year, so I decided to make a "kissing ball". I have lots of greens, my Everlasting Mistletoe (see below), and ribbons. Initially I thought I'd have to go try to find a Floral Sphere, but it turns out that a potato served just fine as the base. Perhaps predictably, this turned out to take a lot more time than swags usually do, but it was sort of fun, and would be a great group project. You'd be shocked at how many branches it took to make this little guy.

The original Everylasting Mistletoe.

 

From the bottom: Bejeweled

This year's "tree"

It's funny how the past comes to the fore sometimes. I remembered the "tree" that Beth and I made when we were in graduate housing. . . branches I'd pilfered from the grad housing grounds, and decorations with salt dough that she and I made. I have somehow continued that tradition, after years of the 16' live tree and all of the ornaments etc. I decided sometime after we moved to Boise that I didn't really like killing a tree, and my backyard trees can always use a bit of pruning.

This year's "tree" is in a vase that belonged to John's grandmother. . .it's a lovely cut-glass piece. The real deal, not pressed glass.

Then, with the leftovers (we can't possibly throw them away) another arrangement in my hand-built green vase. It's all very festive, and I'm glad it's here. I decided to make some ceramic birds for the tree, rather than the feathered dollar-store creations that I usually use. You'll see them here in about a week.

Leftovers shine

 

Happy holidays to all. Enjoy lighting the dark.