Signs of Spring: Cleaning up the Summer Studio

Before...

It's one week before the Maine Pottery Tour, and I am determined not to put off all the hard work until the day before. One of the most daunting tasks? Clearing out the summer studio of it's months-long accumulation of junk, actual trash, leaves & dirt. It's meant to be upwards of 60° & sunny today - perfect outdoor cleanup & hauling weather. I mean, I can think of things I'd rather be doing, but duty calls. I once read a quote from David Campbell: "Discipline is remembering what you want."I unfortunately can't remember what he actually did that was noteworthy, but the quote itself makes sense: when I keep my mind on the outcome I want - eyes on the prize, you could say - it's pretty easy to motivate myself to do the work that needs to be done. 

Usually. Longtime readers will remember that I sometimes struggle with depression. When that rears its ugly head, it can interfere with my discipline, because not only do I not remember what I want, I don't actually want anything! Not enough to make an effort for it. I had a longish bout with this in the early spring, that I finally connected with the creeping-up of my dosage of the weed gummies (legal in Maine) that help me sleep. For a couple of years, I've been taking a 5 mg dose nightly, & sleep-wise, it's been magical: I fall asleep & I stay asleep for 7-8 hours. In March, trying for a bargain, I bought a bag of 20 mg gummies, thinking I would cut them in 1/4s; but sometimes I forgot & bit them in half. Once or twice i even took a whole one. This bumped up my tolerance FAST & as a result I was taking a lot more than previously. Turns out that stereotype about weed is at least partly true, or true in some cases. It interferes with dopamine production - dopamine being both the motivation & reward hormone for accomplishment. I knew it didn't feel like my normal depressive episode, because there was no attendant Black Despair - I just felt no desire to do anything, and no little zing of satisfaction when I did manage to get something accomplished. None of usual tricks to break my low mood cycle worked. I went through my days feeling like I was dragging a jersey barrier behind me. 

Anyway! A couple weeks ago I dropped back down to my micro-dose, and my attitude & energy levels returned to normal, but by then I was badly behind on tasks that needed to be done. Now I am scrambling to catch up, but some things I am just going to have to let slide. 

Not the summer studio, though! That will get done today. I also have mugs that need handles & decoration, & a few shelves left to grind & wash. I hope you find some time to get outside today, & do something more fun than grinding kiln shelves! 

 

Lego Studio!

My friend Sondra's grandchildren made me this little Lego studio, complete with kiln & wheel & a little Lego potter! Adorable. 

This real potter had an amazing day: 9 hours in the studio. That is so rare for me! Usually the first half or more of the day is taken up with household stuff: cooking, cleaning, errands. Sometimes I don't even get in to the studio until 4 pm. I'm going to try to do this more often - get in early, spend all day - because it really is my happy place. It's really, really hard for me to prioritize creative work over caretaking, but there has to be a balance. 

Although to be fair the world is full of happy places for me. Woods, ponds, my hammock, my big chair by the window, complete with cat(s). 

Anyway, today I threw & trimmed, sliptrailed & pulled handles, ground & washed kiln shelves. . Tomorrow I will throw & trim & sliptrail, & hopefully mix some glazes. It's been so rainy lately that stuff is taking forever to dry but I am hoping to load a bisque on Thursday, fire Friday. 

 

Zero Days & Nearo Days

I've been doing a lot of hiking over the last couple of years. Often I am in the company of a good friend who is training for an Appalachian Trail hike, & who introduced me to the concept of Zero Days. 

In distance hiking, Zero Days are not a bad thing - they are resupply days, or days when you just give your body a rest. In my daily life, occasionally I will have a day when I just can't. Can't anything. On those days I just lay around reading, or streaming a show. As any self-employed artist knows, we can't afford many nonproductive days, & I used to hate myself for them; but understanding them in the context of a thru-hiker, I see those days differently. Sometimes you need that break. 

And, as I have come to realize, my days are never truly zero days; more like near zero. Nearo Days. Yesterday was one such day: supposed to be a teaching day, but 14" of snow said otherwise. Bonus studio day, right? NOPE. I spent no time in the studio, despite having leatherhard mugs that need handles & a jaunty jar that needs assembling. I just...couldn't. Things I did do: sent out invoices for the Maine Pottery Tour, & worked on updating the mailing list & the spreadsheet. Also shoveled a boatload of snow! So my zero days are not (usually) sit-around-eating-bon-bon days; it's my creative muscle that needs a rest. 

I do, on much rarer occasions, have literal zero days; unless "make coffee" and "keep breathing" count as accomplishments. I have learned to forgive myself for these days; maybe they aren't manifestations of laziness, but instead my brain insisting on a needed break. 

Today will be a teaching day, & tomorrow is looking like another snow day. Looks like were making up for the first, snowless month of winter, all in a week's time. 

Doing Well by Doing Good, 2023

 

It has been s few years since I sponsored a cat at Kennebec Valley Humane Society. As I am working on getting my groove back, I decided it was time to do so again. As with everything in this business, it all starts with inventory. Yesterday I threw 20 little cat-dish-sized bowls, which I will sell to raise money to sponsor a cat's adoption fee. 

I expect these to be fired in mid-February, and the sale to commence shortly there after. 

Also this week, I got the ball rolling on the 2023 Maine Pottery Tour, learned to make Kung Pao Brussels Sprouts, and hiked to Shed Pond. So beautiful! 

As Yet Unnamed

 

The universe has provided me with a new truck. Or - equally plausible! - I scoured Craigslist & Facebook Marketplace, & every other avenue I could think of, until I found the vehicle I needed. It's a 2010 Ford Ranger, low miles, no frills. We got it for what would have been an insane price a couple of years ago but baby, things change. It was actually the cheapest one on my list, & had been on the market for over a month, so I was half expecting it to be trailing parts & belching smoke. Not at all! Other than some scratched in the bed, it's like a new truck. 

It hasn't yet earned a name, but I am listening to the wind thru the window for suggestions. 

Up On The Roof...

Took a break from making pots for the far-too-far-off first firing of the new kiln to address a leak in the roof of my summer studio. The shed that serves as the studio was a half-assed affair 13 years ago when Doug built it out of found materials, but it has served well enough. Earlier this summer I noticed some water was getting in when it rained hard, and then when it rained at all. What with the kiln rebuild, my classes, making ware, & just...life, the repair kept getting bumped to the bottom of the to-do list but I finally made it up the ladder, and good thing, too! 

The asphalt paper we used for the roofing material had been torn, maybe in a windstorm. A big flap of it was loose, letting water in under the remaining part. That got wet & stayed wet in our massively rainy summer & fall, and became host to an extremely yukky nest of black ants. The wood got punky in some spots & the ants just chewed highways in others. 

I'd have taken a video of the ants boiling up out of the wood, but I was too UUUURRRRRRGGGGHH while pinwheeling away in revulsion & also trying not to fall off the roof. So, maybe video next time. By a weird coincidence, you know how Amazon occasionally screws up & sends you something you didn't order? Just a couple of weeks ago, a spray bottle of clove-based ant & roach killer arrived. I don't have roaches & didn't know I had ants, but I saved it anyway. It came in handy! I brushed away all the nasty ants & as many of their nasty eggs as I could, then sprayed the whole area with this clove spray. 

I've covered the whole thing with a heavy tarp - it rained last night & will rain tomorrow, & that patch of roof needs to dry completely before I shingle over it. If I can't get more than a one-day stretch of no rain, I may go up with a heat gun & try to dry it while hopefully not setting anything on fire. What it really needs is the roof pulled off & the plywood replaced, but that is not in the cards this season - maybe in the spring. 

This calls for a song: 

Tomorrow! cried Toad

Tomorrow!" cried Toad. "I will do it all tomorrow!"

It me. I'm Toad. 

It's Always Something

 The painters finished our house this week - I have been wanting to get this done for 10 years! 15, really, but 10 years ago I did as much as I could myself, and then just had to tolerate being the junky-looking house on our street. Painters cost money! & rightfully so; it's a shit-ton of work, and people deserve to be paid for work. Anyway it's finally done, & we are delighted with the results.

Next on the list is, of course, the kiln rebuild. Tyler stopped by yesterday to take some measurements & assess how much brick from the existing kiln could be reused. In the meantime I am working on one last firing cycle before the big teardown. Loading a bisque today & firing tomorrow... 

...only slightly hindered by my broken toe.

Yep, I'm hobbling. I stubbed it hard on a rock, and it blew up & turned purple. It can be hard to know if a toe is actually broken or just bruised but a friend who works as an ER doc saw a photo I posted on social media & called it: "That is definitely broken." 

Not that it matters; the treatment is the same. Buddy-tape it to the toe beside it, and stay off it. LOL, as if that is an option. I can put off gardening & housecleaning, but I have classes to teach & a kiln to load, so putting my feet up & eating bon-bons is just not in the cards. 

My poor little toe!

 It's always something, isn't it? One damn thing after another. But I like to keep in mind: if that's my worst problem, there are no problems. 

Anyway! Off to load my bisque. I'll do a little bit, and then take a break if the toe starts to throb. 

If you'd like to pre-order a mug from the first firing of the new kiln, you can do that here. The rebuild is happening one way or another, but pre-orders will help pay for it. 

The Skill of Letting Go

I put off unloading, because Friday & Saturday were so bitterly cold, and because no one is waiting for these pots. Today warmed up to a near-balmy 23°, sunny and perfect for unloading. Right off the bat, I suffered the traditional unloading nick, which bled like a mad bastard until I finally gave in, went inside & got a bandaid. 

As inevitable as the nick is the loss of a few pieces. Some firing processes demand more sacrifices to the kiln gods than others; these pots got some bits of wadding crumbled into them from between the bricks of the door. (Not sure why there was more crumbling than usual. I'll have to think about that.)

In the past I might have argued with myself that I could dremel out the bits, apply more glaze, and refire; or that I should save them for a magical someday when I will have time to make a mosaic with my broken pieces; or that I should place them between plants in the perennial garden. Now I'm just like, Nah, toss 'em. The sooner they are out of my sight the sooner they don't matter. If I saved all the pots that didn't work out I'd be surrounded by now, obstructed in every direction by buckets & boxes of unusable pots. Letting go is a valuable skill, for a potter. It's one I teach my students, when their handle separate or their rims crack: let it go. Take the lesson & let the piece go. Make another one. I try to live my own advice. 

Otherwise the firing was pretty good. The very bottom layer was a little pale - I stacked differently, and it affected the way the soda vapor moved around the kiln. (I don't have to let go of those, because they don't require any additional work from me - just load em in the next kiln as if it were the first time.) Mostly mugs & pasta bowls, a few dip dishes & berry colanders. Bread & butter ware, so to speak, although no actual butter dishes. 

Speaking of actual butter dishes, I have some in progress that need assembling, so that's where I'm headed now. 

Yeah so...

 ...my bubble of energy last week? Got abruptly popped when a rightwing mob invaded the US capitol, intent on killing the Vice President and the Speaker of the House. I thought I was back, but no. My productivity is the least of the problems with this, of course, but THANKS ALOT, RIGHTWING MOB. I saw a post on social media asking something like, "Am I the only one having trouble focusing on anything other than the deadly pandemic and the imminent threat to democracy?" No, anonymous poster; no you are not. It's wreaking holy ol' havoc with my professional life. 

If everything really does have an equal and opposite reaction I am about to have my most amazing year yet - as is America. 

Anyway. 

I finally got the kiln loaded - a little loose, but I often get better pots that way. I went to candle the load but discovered that I need new thermocouples (well - I knew that. I kept putting it off, & now one of them doesn't work at all) and the burners are loud & flame more orange than blue - the burners need a good scrub with a wire brush. Thermocouples are easy to replace, and burners are easy to scrub, but it does mean the kiln is still not firing! Luckily nobody is waiting for these pots...yet. 

My list today:

• Order three 36" thermocouples
• Take burners apart & clean them
• Pray for America

Loading Tuesday & Wednesday

 Firing Friday. All of a sudden I desperately want to make pots. 

Well, If I Needed A Reason

 

If I needed a more motivation to get into the studio & make stuff, my youngest feline just provided it. My favorite mug & pitcher are both visible - or, you know, chunks of them are - in the center of the carnage. 

My husband is quick to point out that we don't know it was SkinnyCat who did the deed - it could have been Bobcat Goldthwaite or the ghost of Jacob Marley, who knows? I mean only one creature makes a hobby of knocking things off tables, but - true! - usually small things, not loaded dish-draining racks. 

Ah, well. Cats are spirit guides, sent to make sure we don't get too attached to our material possessions. Anyway, I can always make more. 

This Explains A Lot!

This seems appropriate for the shortest day of the year: just read this fascinating article in The Guardian, suggesting that early humans may have hibernated like bears! You know that winter feeling, that it's so so hard to get going & be productive? You wake up ready for a nap. Or is that just me? I especially have trouble doing anything more strenuous than petting a cat after the sun goes down at, like, 3:56 PM. (NOT JOKING.)

This is a bit problematic for me, as a self-employed potter with a part-time gig teaching classes. The stuff I need to get done doesn't fit in daylight hours! At least now I have an excuse, flimsy as it is. 

Perhaps I shall resort to the strategic use of coffee. 

Brain Fog

I have been suffering from a terrible creative constipation since at least September. I managed to make a few ornaments, class demos, & some pretty nice cookies, but anything requiring real focus - basically all of my normal body of work - has been out of reach for me for months. I keep reading about how chronic stress affects creativity (spoiler alert: BADLY) and boy, does it sound familiar. But then I feel guilty: what have I got to complain about? Other people have been harmed so much more. 

I've been lucky. I know this. My teaching job has been back since July (on break now), and my studio is in my home. Though our daily covid-19 case numbers are getting scary (over 600 today), Maine has one of the lowest rates in the country. 

Nevertheless, we are all living the pandemic. I fear for my mom, who's 87, and for my 2 best friends, who both have conditions that put them at higher risk for bad covid outcomes. (Such conditions are very common! Asthma, obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure, even pregnancy)  One of them is in Minneapolis, an essential worker who has to take public transportation to work every day! Nor does one have to be in a risk group; covid sometimes kills young, otherwise healthy people. 

On the economic side, because things are getting steadily worse here in Maine, I fear my job will be suspended. (I know the governor won't do that unless it's necessary, but I hope it won't be necessary.) Even in good times, worrying is my hobby, which comes in handy when things are not so good. I have saved every spare penny since March, knowing I would have few or no sales events, and that my job could be eliminated at any time. (And it was, for a few months. Nancy Pelosi saved my ass then.) 

Anyway I am getting off track. What I started to say was, my creative juices have basically dried up. I was feeling guilty about this - after all, my go-to fix for troubles is always: I will work harder - but it turns out I'm not alone. Many people are feeling a lack of creativity as a direct side effect of chronic stress. I saw a post on facebook that explained it beautifully, and I wish I could find it, but I can't, so I'll try to sum it up: your brain understands chronic stress as: you are in a dangerous environment. It reallocates resources away from creative energy to keeping you alive. You don't feel like doing anything because your brain is all: Conserve your strength! Keep your head down!

This is somewhat reassuring to me, because that means it will come back. Looking forward to that day when we walk together in the beautiful sun, and we get it together and we get it undone. Hopefully this blog will get more interesting again, too! 

Just Saying Hi!

Checking in with my peeps! What is going on with your lives? I hope you are all staying safe out there, wearing your masks, social distancing, all that. Like a lot of families, we have atomized our Thanksgiving plans: each household celebrating individually. Doug & I will have a scaled down dinner; not the whole nine yards, but turkey plus the extras we like best: stuffing & mashed potatoes for him, garlic parmesan brussels sprouts & pumpkin pie for me. 

Though it seems like we are coming into an even worse covid-19 spike than we have seen yet, we all continue to learn how to keep our businesses afloat when in-person events are risky. The Central Maine Clay Artists* , a professional group I belong to, has for the past 11 years rented a vacant storefront for the month of December to hold a pop up shop, the Holiday Pottery Shop. None of us were entirely comfortable with that level of public interaction this year, so we accepted an invite from Clare Marron, the proprietor of Monkitree, a handmade good shop in Gardiner, to host us. 

We'll be setting up late Saturday afternoon, and on Tuesday, the shopping will begin. 

Portland Pottery will forgo our usual end-of-year bash - that one is a no brainer - but is still planning to hold a show & sale. That event happens December 14th - 17th. 

In addition, like many artists, I am trying to do better about my online presence. I know what to do - basically - I just need to do it. Staying afloat during Covid-19 has also required me to be a little creative about my income stream: I make a lot more cat urns now (RIP kitties; sadly just as many die in pandemic years as any other time) and I have been building websites for artists who, until now, didn't think they needed one. If you need a website, BTW, give me a shout! A basic site starts at $300. 

Today I have some pots to ship, some photos to shoot, a website to update, and a class to teach, so I best get going. 

*Go ahead! Click the link! I built the site. 

The Making Cycle

In an effort to better plan my production, I am trying to realistically detail the phases of my making cycle. I am lucky to enjoy all phases of the making cycle, although not, of course, equally! (ETA: I lied. I do not actually enjoy kiln maintenance, including shelf-grinding. That shit can suck it.)

Anyway, the cycle looks like this; all of these are interspersed & overlapping with my teaching days, not to mention art fairs & other sales event, so it's actually a lot less tidy than this will make it look:

2 1/2 weeks of wetwork: throwing, trimming, decorating, handles. This usually takes the form of one throwing day, two finishing. This is not carved in stone (or even in stoneware!) of course - if I am making more highly decorated piece, I might need a third day of finishing between throwing days. When people think about what a potter's life might be like - assuming the get past Ghost, which, no - they usually picture a life at the wheel, but in fact I only have four or five throwing days in a cycle. Things aren't divided up as tidily as all that - it's rare that I would throw more than 3 or four hours in any given day, so most wetwork days contain both throwing and decorating, and sometimes nothing is at the right stage, so I'll go mix glazes or (UGH) grind shelves. 

3-4 days of drying: This is when I am most likely get a day off. I mean, I take days off like normal people do, but if I am able to schedule them, I try to make them land in the drying time (Kiln-cooling days are also good for this!). It's also a good time to mix glazes, grind shelves, make cone packs, list items online. 

3 1/2 days: Loading, firing, cooling & unloading the bisque. During the firing or cooling day I will rearrange the studio for glazing.  

3-4 days of waxing, slipping, and glazing: This is quite variable also! If I am glazing Dotopia pots, I might only need 2 1/2 days. A kiln load of OOAK pieces might even need 5. 

4 1/2 days: Loading, firing, cooling, unloading the glaze kiln. I try to clean the studio during the firing/cooling days, and arrange it into a wetwork space once again - put away the glazes & the folding tables, get any leftover bisqueware out of the way. 

 A week of grinding, sorting, pricing, packing, shipping, and delivering. 

That all adds up to about 5 weeks, so I really should be able to fire more than I do, even assuming I give myself a week in between to breathe - not exactly a vacation, because I still teach my classes, but 6 weeks a year of working less hard, and 2 actual vacation weeks, as in, not working.

More firings mean more pots - yay - and more pots mean more work on the other end, selling those pots. This is a natural consequence, because shelves full of pots motivates me to go out & find outlets. This is backwards, I know: I should be making to fill existing outlets, but that's not how I roll.
Maybe I could work on that, in the new year. I have a lot to work on! I'm coming up with my "20 for 2020" list, since "19 for 2019" was so helpful. Not entirely successful, but I made more progress on things that matter to me than I would have without it.

 

 

 

Hot Stuff

Lookin' for some hot stuff, baby this evenin'
I need some hot stuff, baby tonight
I want some hot stuff, baby this evenin'
Gotta have some hot stuff
Gotta have some love tonight...

3 Days in the Studio

Way back when this blog was new, I used to post almost every day, although the posts were not all particularly useful or profound. Sometimes I just typed out my to-do list.

This was before I knew anyone was reading - the internet can feel like shouting into a void, and that's not always bad! Like singing in the shower, writing without an audience is freeing in that it doesn't matter if your posts are good or not! To push through this inertia (which I am hoping is not the leading edge of depression!) I am going to post my to-do lists again for a while.

So, 3 days in the studio: yesterday, today, & tomorrow:

• Yesterday: I had some deck clean-up to do before I could even get started. Half-full, rained-in plastic bins with sodden packing materials, pots that have been sitting out for weeks gathering just general outdoor dirt - it doesn't seem like that should have taken hours, but it did. I also selected some pots for the Portland Pottery Café, priced & packed those & typed up an invoice. 
• Today: I have even more grinding, sorting, pricing & packing to do. I have a few pots to bring to Monkitree - got some really great butter dishes out of this kiln. After that (if it doesn't take all day, which it probably will) I need to clean up the winter studio - during the months of disuse, somehow it becomes even less tidy than when I am in there working? Stuff kind of piles up in there. It's time to bring the wheel back inside & start the next making cycle, so I need to clear myself some space. 
• Tomorrow: Assuming I get all that stuff done (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA as if) and further assuming the weather is decent as predicted, I might just go for a hike! I've actually never been to Cadillac Mountain, and October is a fine time to hike - not too hot & the crowds have gone home. 

There's lots more I could be doing - photographing pots! posting items to the online shop! replenishing low glazes! - but overwhelming myself with tasks seems, lately at least, to be a recipe for none of them getting done. I've got some household stuff to do, too, so if I can complete this list + that one, I will pat myself on the back and allow myself to be happy. 

What Do You Do While the Kiln is Firing?

Me, I clean. There are some logical reasons for that - the studio is never more empty than when all the ware is in the kiln - and some squishier ones, like for some reason I just can't make myself start a new making cycle in the midst of the old one. NO OVERLAP, it's some kind of brain-cramp of a rule that I can't get past. So, I clean.

Sometimes I clean my house. Often I clean my studio - see above. Sometimes I drag all the random crap that has drifted into the shed like seaweed on a beach, throw three-quarters of it away, and then organize the rest. It's lucky I have firing days, because some stuff only happens then.

Today I had a flea infestation to address. As you may know, I live in the House of Many Cats, not entirely accidentally. We apply flea preventative medications regularly, but fleas do love hot, humid weather, and I found one on Finn McCool just yesterday - only two weeks after he'd had his monthly treatment. Time for drastic action! Which means, time to close the cats up in bedrooms, drag all the furniture into the kitchen, and shake Borax on all the carpets to kill flea eggs. It has to sit for a few hours before getting vacuumed up, so I still had time to do dishes & laundry & all my regular cleaning stuff as well. I did straighten the studio a bit as well, and re-arranged things so it's easier to glaze in there. Maybe that's why I don't like crossing the streams - I use the space differently during the glazing part of the cycle.

The bisque is nearly done now, and Doug & I will settle down to watch Guardians of the Galaxy.

I love Groot, don't you?

TTFN, Pottery Stairs!

Just checking in with my pottery peeps! It's been a month or so since I posted, and in that time I have been busily making. Wholesale is all delivered for the season, and my next event is not until the end of August, but I am (for once!) not waiting until the last possible second.

And of course there are also consignment outlets to keep full.

Usually in the summer I would have a steady drip of income from the Pottery Stairs, but things have gone awry this year. While theft has always been factored in to the cost of my honor-system stand - occasionally someone would take an envelope & not send the money, or even every once in a while an outright theft of a piece or two - this year it's crazy. Like, every day a couple of pieces just disappear. Even when people took envelopes, which I take as meaning they intend to pay, only one of four envelopes returned to me with payment.

The Pottery Stairs in better days

While it's tempting to see this as further evidence that the world is getting shittier, I think two things account for the change. The outright thefts - someone just seeing something they like & taking it - are probably one person, or maybe two, together. The payments that never arrive are probably due to economic strains: people intend to pay, but every pay period, that pottery envelope is the least important thing, until it falls behind the radiator and is forgotten. Gas, oil, power, and food costs have all risen. Augusta's not a wealthy city, and real wages have fallen particularly hard in rural areas since last summer. People are hurting.

Whatever the cause, for now there's a moratorium on the Pottery Stairs. It's not just the loss of product - these are seconds, so any cash that comes in from them is essentially found money - but it bums me out. And with only one of four envelopes coming back with payment, it's not worth the hit my mood takes when the thefts occur; no one like to be stolen from, however minor the loss. So it's Ta-Ta For Now, Pottery Stairs.

Was that a bummer? Could you use a cute cat pic to cheer you up? If so, here is a cute cat pic:

Jack (orange), Petey (grey), Noodle (white w/ black) & Finn (black w white)