On Friends for the Journey
30 June 2020
I was going to be done with this show so far ahead of schedule.
I had the pieces done in May, thanks to weeks of quarantine and a borrowed wheel. Then, halfway through June, I rented the kiln to glaze-fire the bulk of my work, already making plans for a few weeks of leisurely show logistics and a stress-free opening.
The kiln misfired.
It got up to peak temperature and stayed there for about eight hours too long. Some of the pieces took it in stride, finishing with glossy clay bodies and a high-fire complexity of color. But I lost a third of the kiln outright, pieces fused to shelves or cracked from the heat. Another third was decidedly subpar, with pinholes in the glaze and colors burned flat.
Some of the most ruined pieces.
Detail of a cracked cup.
It was a fairly devastating morning. But my friends were brilliant. They pronounced maledictions upon the kiln and sent me to watch a movie — “any movie starring Emma Thompson,” one said. They dissuaded me from making grim, long-term plans that morning, and later helped tally what pieces needed to be re-thrown. I felt “seen” and their grieving-with-me lightened the disappointment to bearable proportions. Two days later, I was at the wheel again.
Watching Sense & Sensibility (1995) while pricing pottery.
This past Friday I finished carving the last of thirty-four new pieces that will replace what was lost. Barring another catastrophic kiln firing, my show is set to open with its complete array of work.
Ladies and gentlemen, please mark your calendars for July 24th, the gallery showing night for Scattered and Drawn: Conversations in the Art of Attention. More details to come!*
*…Including a way for you to come and experience the show privately if you’re uncomfortable with group gatherings in the age of Corona. :)
New swirl-clay tumblers.
New stackable cups.