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.