Jeanette Manchester Harris

Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest 2009 Results

2009-07-02T06:38:00.000-07:00

"Folks say that if you listen real close at the height of the full moon, when the wind is blowin' off Nantucket Sound from the nor'east and the dogs are howlin' for no earthly reason, you can hear the awful screams of the crew of the "Ellie May", a sturdy whaler Captained by John McTavish' for it was on just such a night when the rum was flowin' and, Davey Jones be damned, big John brought his men on deck for the first of several screaming contests."

The winner of 2009 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is David McKenzie, a 55-year- old Quality Systems consultant and writer from Federal Way, Washington. ...

For more hilarity, go to http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/2009.htm

Blown Away

2009-06-29T09:45:00.000-07:00

The first time I saw an Andrew Wyeth painting, I wanted to go home and throw away all my paints and just hang it up.

I knew I could never paint that well.

And to make it even worse, the show combined TWO masters: Wyeth and Winslow Homer. It was equal to two body blows.......but to the mind.

It was a wonderful show; one that you could walk right up to the paintings and nearly stick your nose into it. No guards to speak to you, no alarms going off. Everything was covered with protective glass, of course, but these days, you cannot get that close to a painting, unfortunately.

Anyway, I just discovered a sculptor whose work has had a similar effect on me. Her name is Tricia Cline.

I found her work through an incredibly deep art/museum site called The Curated Object. Ever so often I return to this page to mine it a bit more. Wandering through the indexes is always intriguing.

Not only is Tricia Cline an accomplished artist she is Self-Taught. So forget about a long string of art schools, degree initials, and everything else recommended to assure artists their worthiness to exhibit.

Just take a look.

Her website is: www.triciacline.com

Curated Object: www.curatedobject.us

Worth Repeating

2009-06-25T13:05:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I was transferring jpegs from my old computer to my laptop. And I ran across this tray I did a couple of years ago. It is a variation of several trays of this design. I find it to be very satisfying to make. The glaze technique always gives good results.

Here's how you do it:

Dip a piece into the base color. In this case, it is white. Use wax resist and a fine brush to block out leaf/branch forms or whatever you desire. You can roll the brush in your hand while to paint to produce a lovely variation in the line.

Load up a pitcher with contrast glaze and, holding the piece at an angle over a catch bucket, pour the darker glaze over the white undercoat. Voila! Something like the example.

A couple of times, I've splashed dots of an even darker glaze over the top. One day, I'll try blocking out a second area with resist and applying a third glaze just to see what happens.

Bye, bye

2009-06-19T07:51:00.000-07:00

The kickwheel sold. Yeah

Couldn't have gone to a better home.

Now, do I contribute to Public Television or the Federation for the Blind?
I give to both.

1. Public Television because I think education and information is important and it's the only outlet that is still providing the programing that was the "great promise of television".

2. The Federation for the Blind because, as children, my sister and I would play the endless argument game: "If you had to choose, would you rather be deaf or blind?"

I finally decided I would rather be deaf.
Although giving up music forever would be endlessly painful, I could still remember it. Losing my sight would be devastating.

Brent Kickwheel

2009-06-05T08:57:00.001-07:00

This Brent kickwheel is in my studio, eating up space that I need.

The one pictured is a nice, natural wood-colored one; the one I've got is red, blue, green --like a child's toy colors. (I try not to look at it.)

A lady who was moving to China wanted me to sell it and I said 'okay'. Why do I say 'okay'? I'll send whatever I get for it to charity.

Anyway

It's a nice wheel. ( There's a larger wheelhead on the one I have.) I've used it for trimming and it has a really good feel. Very sensitive and well-balanced. The flywheel is made of two large plywood discs with an open space between to insert regular building bricks. You could move them around if you felt the wheel wasn't balanced, but the wheel gives an even spin.

The whole thing comes apart and breaks down for easy moving, but re-attaching the wheelhead and the balance wheel is a bear. I'd recommend moving it in toto.

I have it posted on Craig's List for $100.00, so if any of you are in the NW corner of the NW ie Western Pinninsula of Washington near Seattle and need a wheel, send me a comment and we can arrange a deal.

P.S. I also have a 4 harness full-sized folding loom in my storage building.

Don't Let This Happen to You

2009-06-04T09:51:00.003-07:00

Some years ago, I tried wrapping a small jar with copper wire.

I dutifully placed the piece on a set tile to guard against any drips on the kiln shelf. I used very thin wire.......This came out of the kiln.

I loved the result of the wire melt. Fortunately, it didn't drip too much and there was no sticking to the shelf.

.......But.........

I couldn't get the lid off.

I tapped.

I sawed.

I even bought a Dremel diamond bit. But to no avail.

It makes a nice paperweight. Or doorstop.

I must try it again, but the next time, design a catchment for the copper pooling.

Of course, if you ever wanted to seal something up permanently, this would be just the ticket.

A Quick Trip to DC

2009-05-20T07:32:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, we went to Washington D.C. A quick trip, only four days, more's the pity. Each year that we go, I have my list of museums to visit. I like to go alone, take my time, make notes to myself and to think.

The Corcoran has a small bistro on one side of the main lobby that offered wonderful lunches. I usually plan to arrive sometime during the lunchtime window. And ditto for the mezzanine service at the Museum for Women in the Arts.

I always go to the Renwick. There's always a good show there, to say nothing of their per

manent collection upstairs. (Which, this year, the upstairs display was very limited. The Catlins are all off the walls and the Grand Salon is undergoing a major renovation. Wonder what they have done with those two massive vases that always anchored

two sides of the massive room?)

The Corcoran Gallery usually has the student's show plus some large, multi-room display. I'll never forget the Topkapi one a few years ago.

I always make it to the Museum of Women in the Arts. Their shows are always good. This year, it was gowns and jewelry from the designer, Mary McFadden. I was a little unsure of--

1. Whether a clothes designer could pull off an art display equal to some I had already seen at the museum. and 2. If I would really care.

I was wowed. McFadden bases her designs on classic and ethnic references and her sense of color is unparalleled. The collection included some of her personal jewelry and pieces she has collected from all over the world as reference pieces. Her clothing is the height of textile skill. The clothes were cut and put together beautifully. I wished I could have seen how they were constructed on the inside. The decoration, usually in beading, was superb.

Unfortunately, the annual Art of the Book is no longer available on the library level of the museum. They have closed the great art reference library permanently. I'm sorry they had to do that. The exhibit was also one of the highlights of the museum.

Everywhere I visited, cutbacks in expenses were very evident. The lunches were pared down to minimalist offerings. The service staff was nearly gone. At the Corcoran, only one sole woman was receiving people, taking orders, cashiering the pre-pay and putting the food on a 6-foot table for pick-up. No more elegant lunches there. The Museum for Women in the Arts was the same thing--two servers and edited menus.

When I was at the Renwick, a great show about the architect brothers Green and Green of California was set up. Examples of joinery, hardware, floor plans, lamps, pieces of furniture, stained glass, etc. were displayed. A wonderful film of homes designed for their owners was being presented in one room. When it was over, I went to the museum shop to see if I could get a CD of it. It wasn't available. I asked if there was a catalog of the show. No, the volunteer said. Was there at least a poster? Nope.

All the shops in the museums were sparse. The Corcoran has divided the gift shop space in half and is selling off stock at discounted prices. The selection available is mostly print matter--books and postcards. The Renwick still has individual artist's pieces on display, but they have cut their stock radically. The same goes for W. in the A. They is discounting nearly everything.

It's sad to see the arts take such a hit.

Writer's Work Habits

2009-05-18T07:03:00.000-07:00

Writers are a solitary sort. They establish their own Rules of Discipline and Goals, be it a certain number of hours, pages, or words. Most strictly control their work space and routine. Kipling did it, Woodhouse did it and King does it.

It's the same with a lot of artists. Control your surroundings and set work parameters, then creativity can run wild within it.

They also allow themselves an equal share of dream-time and downtime Most walk. A lot.* It seems a good balance. Mind and body; equal time allowed. One flows into the other and feeds the missing half. A lot of good ideas come when you're driving or in the shower or just before you either go to sleep or are just waking up. Going into the Alpha brain wave state.

I usually have a pen and page of paper at the bedside to jot down ideas, dreams, or thoughts before they get away. One of those recorder/writing pens might be a good idea. The pens do come with earphones. But to put the earphones in and write with the pen attached to the other end of the cord? I don't think so. That would make a good Mr. Bean episode.

So I'm thinking about using these writer's work strategy to improve and to streamline the process of making art.

Another thing: King doesn't talk about the work while he's writing. He feels talking about it dilutes the inspiration. He doesn't let anyone read it (not even himself) until he has let the manuscript 'mature' in a desk drawer for 6-8 weeks. He then looks at it afresh and does the first edit.

I feel criticism during the making process has got to be your own. The very last thing you want is someone swanning in and suggesting changes while you're making something.

Things that you think are wonderful--that you totally fall in love with might not look so great down the stream of time as you progress in the work. You may look at it later on and wonder why you thought was so great.

Conversely, you could have made things that you thought were awful. When they came out of the kiln, they were not at all what you thought they should have been.

Resist the impulse to take the hammer to it! It's happened enough to me to temper my reactions now. I still regret the destruction of a very large majolica pitcher I judged too quickly. Let your verdict rest for a while. Put some distance between you and the time of the work. "In the fullness of time" you will know.

But---Bad work should not live. Faulty construction, unskilled results, artistic eyesores, dangerous glaze results, cracked or fatally flawed pieces should not be offered to the public. Ever. I once saw a piece made by a nationally known potter offered for sale. The foot had collapsed on one side, there was a crack in the base. I'm sure he would have been horribly chagrined to know that pot made it into the market.

You should keep work that can serve as a 3D reminder for repeat work or to explore the form further at a later date. I have a few of those in my studio. That would be the only justification I can see for sparing the hammer.

You are the first critic. There are plenty of others who will have as many opinions and there are leaves on the trees. And they will be more than happy to share those with you. Trust me. (Where's my irony emotocom.)

*Although for King, this almost proved to be fatal. In 1999, he was struck by a van and nearly killed. A long recovery ensued and he completed "On Writing" during the healing process.

Stephen King on Working

2009-05-18T06:58:00.000-07:00

King writes that when he is working, he visualizes himself in a special setting:

"I'm in another place, a basement place where there are lots of bright lights and clear images. This is a place I've built for myself over the years. It's a far-seeing place. I know it's a little strange, a little bit of a contradiction, that a far-seeing place should be in a basement place, but that's how it is with me. If you construct you own far-seeing place, you might put it in a treetop or on the roof of the Empire State Building, or on the edge of the Grand Canyon. It's your little red wagon, as Robert McCammon says in one of his novels."

Now, there's a thought.

I'd never approached creative thinking that way. Oh, yes, I'm a master of the Slide-out-of-my-body, Appear-to-be-conscious-except-for-a-slight-glaze-of-the-eyes.

The Old Exit Trick.

Been doing that since the second grade when things got boring and I had to behave.

And when I take a workshop, walk into a museum, put myself into a place where there's a lot of mental buzz going on, it turns my mind into a turbine and all sorts of ideas fly. I used to fill my college notebooks with lecture notes and margin drawings. At work, I might be answering the phone and dealing with whatever was on the other end, but I was also exiting through my right hand via a pencil and a doodle pad. Serving two masters, so to speak.

Now this does happen: The minute I step over the threshold of my studio it is like going through one of the science fiction space portals where, on entering, your molecules get disintegrated and then re-assembled on the other side. Once through the door, I remember exactly where I was in the work, as if a mental bookmark had been left. I tune into the thoughts left floating in the air like an enticing aroma.

That's reacting to the surroundings; a response to creative stimulus.

But to actually invent a place to go to in your mind--a Receiving Station--that you conjure up and then go through the door and close it? Wow.

King's thinking plan is almost a sort of self-hypnosis. His physical surroundings may be an isolated desk somewhere in his home where he can go and shut the door, but his mental location is a special place where he puts on different clothes, gets out his spyglass, tunes his ears for dialog and feels the wind in his face.

Wow, again.

I'm finding this book really interesting.........

On Writing by Stephen King

2009-05-13T06:47:00.000-07:00

I don't usually read Stephen King. No, I've Never read Stephen King, that is until now.

I've seen a some of his work made into movies, like "The Shining" , "The Green Mile", "Doloros Clayborne", "1480", and "Misery". But for the most part, his kind of stories just aren't my choice of fiction.

I picked up this book because I assumed it would be different than his usual efforts and I wanted to know what he had to say about writing.

The first part of the book is about his life, which is interesting enough, but he doesn't get "down to it' until page 95.

That chapter, entitled What Writing Is, begins with: "Telepathy, of course."

It just stopped me short.

And immediately my mind said, "Of Course!" But who would have just come right out and said it?

Although he goes on to say that he is writing this chapter in 1999 and the reader will read his words somewhere downstream in time, his thoughts will transmit over time, space and the ethers to the reader's mind. And therefore in it's own unique way, writing is a form of telepathy.

And so is art. Only instead of transmitting thoughts in words, art is making visual, emotional, tactile aesthetic statements that will be 'read' by another person somewhere later in time and space.

Something magic happens when you are in the state of creating. Call it telepathy, call it a visit from your muse, call it inspiration, ---anything you like. But I'm sure we can all agree that it just ain't the normal, everyday, humming right along. It IS magic. It is living totally in your mind and flying.

When you think about that, it's pretty amazing.

This is a Test - It is Only a Test

2009-05-09T07:51:00.001-07:00

Here's an interesting color perception test site:

http://www.spectralcolor.com/game/huetest_kiosk

Arrange the tiles in the correct progression in each band.

At the end you can receive a score and you can take the test more than once.

Note: Some of the tiles appear to be darker in value than others. The tints are correct, but the variances in dark and light can throw you. Make sure your monitor is adjusted well and the viewing light is good for viewing.

Have fun!

So Ugly It's Cute

2009-05-04T11:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I went to an outdoor antique flea market. I love doing this. I usually look for old kitchen gadgets that are NOT plastic, but this time, I found a little gem.

The whole thing is rather small. I have a suspicion it isn't American--it may be French. The dealer had several things from Europe and the shape of the cone, the handle, the spout, makes me think this.

The reamer cone is taller and doesn't spread out at the bottom like American ones do. It just has a different shape. And the whole thing screams Deco.

I have been looking for a good reamer for a while. This little ugly fits all the requirements: Sharp edges on the cone, good-sized reservoir, very positive, focused pouring spout, a nice handle and an added bonus: A removable strainer. The slot the aluminum strainer slides into is amazingly fine and it will fit only one way. The tiny tabs that hold it securely in place.

Attention to design and manufacture of such a mundane little thing shows a lot of care and skill went into designing and manufacturing it. Another reason why I think it is French. I mean, who else takes food and food preparation so seriously?

Usually I don't like orange Anything.

(It's the a lasting trauma caused by having to live and function in a 1970's kitchen with dark cabinets, a confetti-linoleum floors and Bright Orange Formica Counter Top. Seemed like miles of it.

Walking into that kitchen every morning was like getting hit with a blast of brass trumpets!

But for some reason, this little thing well, it just seemed to be okay.

The material is either an early plastic or a Bakelite. It is beautifully molded and light as a feather; only about 1/8th of an inch thick. There are no trademarks anywhere on it.

Here's a great example of function interpreted very gracefully and beautifully. I will enjoy and appreciate it every time I use it.

She bought a new MacBook and we never heard from her again.........

2009-05-01T07:15:00.000-07:00

Well, it isn't exactly that bad. But nearly.

There is lots to explore and I'm still on the learning curve heading north.

More later. But in the meantime, since this IS a blog about pots, here are more shots of wonderful teapots on display at NCECA, Phoenix.

Progress Report

2009-04-21T10:13:00.000-07:00

What Have I Learned in the Last Few Days?

That I can hook both computers up to the router using two firewires and run them simultaneously.

1 point for the old G4

1 point for the MacBook

Bad news for the email accounts that keep loading up with the same messages. I haven't even looked at the server's folder. Even though the emails are going to two different computer addresses, there doesn't seem to be a problem..... I just have to keep on top of the volume until I can completely transfer to the laptop.

That I did download all my iPhoto library onto a disc, I mean it actually took them all. Surprise. But the MacBook will only load what's new on the camera.

1 point for the old G4.

Another point in favor of getting old G4 it's own printer.

-1 point for the MacBook

That the only way I can download music from my iPod is to wipe the whole library and only transfer that which I purchased online. Forget about all the albums I loaded on already, all the podcasts and audiobooks I've downloaded.

-3 points for the MacBook

A Nano is looking good for the Christmas list.

I'm going to try and back up all my iTunes library onto a disc just in case. But otherwise, I guess it would be better to just keep the library intact and download new onto the lalptop.

I did get on the web and am now in the process of editing all my bookmarks and transferring their addresses to new bookmarks.

Even score--I needed to edit the old bookmarks anyway.

I can send jpegs as attachments to myself using two separate email addresses. A tedious process for sure, but now I know that at Least I can do it. I guess I'll just have to think of the old G4 and discs as a storage units and transfer the images on an "as needed" basis.

Fah! I've gotta get back to the studio!

Enough of this whining!

Into the Maw of Computer Systems

2009-04-20T05:53:00.000-07:00

Hello

I'm waving at you from the bottom of a technological hole.

I didn't dig it myself, really, I just allowed it to evolve beneath my feet.

Into a Gaping Void...........a Black Hole,God's Shredder Machine.

After contending for several months with a growing problem of the old Mac G4's developing senility. it occurred to me that I had better move right along with the new technology and become more portable. I reasoned that a MacBook would be the solution. I could take it back and forth between Arizona and Washington much easier than moving 'the monster' each time.

My G4 had began to have memory problems. It's not like the old Macs that you could get into the guts of the thing and throw out programs you would never use and manually allot more memory to programs by opening them up and changing the settings. Besides, I liked my old system 9 and 10.3 programs like Pagemaker.

Yup the old G4 runs two separate operating systems. The new systems are 10.4 and up. In order to bring the G4 up to current software would be a hefty outlay of bucks and still I would lose access to the programs I run on the old systems.

I began to have difficulties running programs and web stuff. I was having memory problems switching from one window to another. And it wasn't my internet hook-up either. My computer began crashing. After my old printer died, I couldn't run anything off--I would have to make it an email attachment and ask my husband to print it. It was a war of attrition.

And it's amazing the things you will accommodate. They just creep into your life. And you bend a bit. Then a bit more. And finally you're reduced to looking at a little spinning ball. Waiting.

I could've hooked a RUG with the time I spent waiting.

It became even more attractive to move to a new computer after I spent about a half hour with the techie rep picking his brain about the new MacBook. We talked about transferring data between the G4 and a laptop. It seemed so simple; just get a fire wire, plug it into the two computers, open the Migration Assistant and let 'er rip.

I should have known.

I forgot the #1 Rule:

Everything dealing with computers takes at least twice as long to do as you think it will.

After spending all of yesterday trying to figure out why the firewire wouldn't work--the new system disk wouldn't load into the old computer (it kept spitting it out), and trying to back up the G4 data into an external disc drive (IT is only is compatible with the new system 10.4 and higher) and reading pages and pages of other people's similar problems on tech support sites, I've decided the best thing to do is forget about trying to direct transfer. That's just not going to work. Even if I did pull it off, the what's on the G4 still has to be run by old programs. It would just be like taking a big bag of old stuff and dumping it into the new laptop---it's still old stuff. What was I thinking?

I usually like this kind of thing. The challenge between (wo)man and machine; the pitting of my mushy brain-wits against hard steel and silicon. Yeah, I can beat that pile of wires and chips. With one flipper tied behind my back..............Wait a minute. I'm beginning to lose it.

I've been using the G4 since oh, somewhere around 6 or 7 years now. What made me think it would work? Cram TWO antiquated systems into that beautiful little laptop? Phhhhhbbbbt.

I'll just have to unhook my G4's life support system (modem cable), turn it into a dumb terminal, so to speak, maybe find an old refurbished printer that's compatible and run off all the written stuff into hard copies or revamp the material. So, okay, lesson learned. If you want to keep anything, make a hard copy at the time.

(Scarlet O'Hara mode ON)
I'll just have to forget my past. Turn my face to the West, pick up my skirts and trudge down that old plowed furrow toward a New Day. (Place hand on forehead) I'll just have to think about read/write discs and Leopard from now on. "Ta-morrow is anothah day!"

CLAYART

2009-04-14T16:48:00.000-07:00

How can I explain CLAYART? It is an internet community of people involved in clay: Artists, publishers, gurus, authors, equipment experts, educators, amateurs, gallery owners, hobbyists, newbies and old hands.

The physical boundaries have no end. Anywhere that an internet and computer are available, CLAYART exists. It is one enormous club. There are no dues, no initiation, no jury, only the requirements of civility and everyday grace you would exhibit and experience with fellow creatures of this planet.

CLAYART started as an outgrowth of NCECA and the personal computer. About 13 years ago, an email discussion group was formed in which people could dialogue about all things clay. It was the result of NCECA and the desire to continue the flow of information and to network with other potters.

Today it has grown into a huge population with a daily traffic that can amount to around 100 messages or more. (I really don't keep track.) That could be daunting if you set out to read every word of every email, but you quickly learn to pick and choose what is relevant to your own environment and delete (in my case, mercilessly) that which you judge can be eliminated. Most of the time, the Subject Line and the sender will tip you off as to whether you choose to read or not. I pass up raku or woodfiring, for instance.

And, a subject-word-keyed archive can be used to research a particular question that might arise, so elimination of messages doesn't usually mean they are gone forever.

Additionally, once you are enrolled, you can address the CLAYART "Brain" to ask an open question. The avalanche of replies or opinions will almost fall from the screen. We are a helpful and giving folk in the main.

It is helpful, as in any new environment, to sit back and observe the protocols and 'lurk' until you're comfortable, but it you have a bad problem or want to respond right away, that's okay too.

Mel Jacobson (or "The Mayor") runs it most of the time and serves as a basically hand-off moderator yet knows when to 'send us to our rooms' when things occasionally get too hot or protracted. In other words, telling us to 'ride that dead horse outta here.' But in a good way.

Current discussions this week have included the NCECA experience plus the discussion of the cost of attending. And what to see, where to go and the best places to eat in Philadelphia.

Take a visit. Get your toes wet. Google Clayart, click on ABOUT to get the complete background. Go to www.acers.org/clayart/ to find out how to enroll. Follow the directions and wait. It won't be long until your mailbox will be bubbling with a plethora of subjects.

Beside being an internet discussion group, CLAYART is a sub-community that meets within NCECA. Mel arranges with another hotel beside the convention hotel (after all, they have their own fish to fry) and secures a large meeting type room for us to have available throughout the time of the convention to relax, talk, show our work, present mini-programs, meet and talk in real-time with the people manifest in the flesh who we have come to know ethereally. It's nice because you feel you know them already. We all walk around NCECA with our nametags showing a red dot as a way of recognizing each other amid the masses, although people involved in clay are for the most part a truly friendly lot.

Each year the CLAYART room is something different. This year Mel arranged to have a room that was equipped with a very long bar where we could set up an example of our work. It was great to be able to see the work of many of our members and connect the work with the names.

Pictured: A wonderful teapot by Gerry Wallace on display at the bar.

Also this year, the CLAYART room presented a supurb collection of work from the American Museum of Ceramic Arts--absolute benchmark pieces marking the history of 20th Century ceramic art with works by masters of the craft. A sister show from the same collection was set up in the gallery area of the Marjon Clay Company of Phoenix. Just stunning work! (A lot of the shots from the previous posting came from that show.)

One evening, a presentation by Tom Coleman and Frank Boyden about their journey working in collaboration and their new book.

Check out CLAYART before the next NCECA.

NCECA

2009-04-14T06:58:00.000-07:00

Just got back from the annual National Council for Education in the Ceramic Arts convention in Phoenix. My head is still spinning with all the wonderfulness of it all. Too bad you can't s-p-r-e-a-d it out into a couple of week's time. It's impossible to see it all, attend every event, or meet everyone you want to talk to. But I tried.

There were galleries and other venues presenting works in clay, there were seminars, discussion group meetings, receptions, presentations, an exhibitor's hall of vendor's equipment and tools, schools representations, demonstrations of techniques, sales of clay works.

Authors signed their books, students rubbed elbows with famous artists and everywhere something to see, new people to meet, ideas to stir your brains. In short, it was a virtual clay artist's heaven.

I've been to several conventions in the past few years and I always come away with new life and new ideas. I also come away with the thought that I must make it to the one next year. Usually, they are held on alternate coasts or general areas of the US. However, next year it will be held in Philadelphia and the following one in Tampa. I will try to get to both even though it is expensive to travel, the value received professionally is golden.

Bulwer-Lytton Entry Addendum

2009-04-05T21:20:00.000-07:00

You know the entry below about the elaborately-carved 16th century yadda yadda yadda chair? Well, this is a true story. However some of the facts have been tweeked to suit the contest style.

When we were in the antique business, we were acquainted with a very fine southern gentleman from Georgia who sold exquisitely beautiful and rare French antiques. He would bring these treasurers to a very tony antique show in Portland, Oregon, that we also drug our choicest bits to a bi-annually.

And this story really happened to him. Only it wasn't a domed porter's chair.

As a matter of fact, I don't remember what (as I do remember, it was something rather bulky and difficult to haul) a rarity he had cherished, yet grown to hate because it hadn't been immediately snapped up by an enthralled buyer. He had had the privilege of presenting this jewel of an item and schlepping it around to his show booths and back to the shop for years.

Finally, a lady became interested in this piece and was seriously thinking of buying it, but announced that she would like her friend to see it first. His shoulders slumped and he quietly groaned and as she left, came over to our booth and said, "Believe me, if someone says, 'Let me go get my husband/boyfriend/sister/girlfriend/etc. to see this,' It is the kiss of DEATH."

Sure enough, on their return, her friend came up with the garage sale comment...........

It's Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest time again!

2009-04-01T08:53:00.000-07:00

The Bulwar-Lytton Contest deadline is April 15th. To quote the famous writer:

"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."

--Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)

And in honor of this wordy author, an annual contest is held to see who can write the most lengthy and elaborate bunch of silly foo-fah their minds can string together in one sentence. Each year the website publishes the winning entries. You can find the main page at http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/.

The 2009 results will be published there sometime in mid-June 2009.

Hoping to be ranked as the worst of the worst of purple prose, I sent off this year's verbal herniations for consideration. Two examples of which are included below:

Even though she was being tied to the ornately-carved sacrificial post and watching the witch doctor shake fetishes in her face, Valentina couldn't help being impressed by his lavish, yet charmingly primitive jewelry and flamboyantly colorful make-up, all the while thinking he really should do something about his pores and bad breath, but not in that order.

and

"Don't worry Lucille," shrugged her friend Gladys after she had been retrieved from the crowd at the antiques show to view the beautiful domed-top chair, "because if you are meant to have an authentic early example of an astronomically priced 16th century hand-carved rosewood French hooded porter's chair with the original horsehair padding and tooled Moroccan-Spanish leather upholstery and hand-forged brass studs and casters, you'll find one at a garage sale."

Artisan's Market Show

2009-04-01T06:55:00.001-07:00

Last weekend was the Tucson Museum of Art 's Artisan's Market. It was a nice show. The Southern Arizona Clay Association's area was a good one--right at the entrance courtyard.

Outside of set-up and take-down, I was there for my work shift on Saturday morning only, but we were busy the entire time.
This is good. There's nothing worse than sitting around at a show with only a trickle of patrons coming through.

The over-all quality of the show was really quite high with a good mix of choices from two-dimensional work, fibers, sculpture, jewelry,etc.

I was hoping to be able to take a good turn around and spend some time looking at other booths, but didn't even have time to take a break; we were that busy.

There were 17 potters participating in the Southern Arizona Clay Association booth and the variety and range of work was, as it usually is, wide and varied.

My general observation is that the brighter, more colorful work sold best. And as usual, things in the lower range did well--$20.00 to $40.00 or thereabouts.

The customers were a good mix of young and older, men and women. Usually women buy the most pottery pieces.

Some of my best customers have historically been people of Asian heritage and other artists. This time it was a bit different. I usually sell some of my teapots, but didn't at this show, although I did well as far as sales go.

I really enjoy the contact with customers and like to meet people and talk. I got over being shy about my work a long time ago.

Vase

2009-03-26T06:29:00.000-07:00

This is one piece I'm taking to the Tucson Art Museum Artisan's Sale March 27-29th.

Although it looks like it has three different glazes, it's just two.

I made it in a class and truly have no clue about the they were using.

I just layered them to test the reaction and drizzled the lighter one over the body of the vase for a fourth effect.

The orchids are the only kind I can grow--plastic.

It's definitely a one-off.

My work will be in the Southern Arizona Clay Association booth.

Hope to see you there!

"Compiling"

2009-03-21T07:30:00.001-07:00

I don't know if I have a style.

When I was college, I definitely had a style. Anyone could pick out my pots.
I have one surviving piece from that time. (Not the jar on the left, by the way) It was the first cup I ever threw. Nothing special, just a handle-less brown-glazed cup with incised marks around the body. Nice little trimmed foot. (I love trimming.)

But there was an enormous gap between then and the time I picked up clay once again-- a whole lifetime, nearly.

Since then, I have been bombarded with information and influences. Workshops, publications, museum displays, shows, other clay artists.

Everything goes into the hopper and gets stirred and sifted, rolled out and baked.

Sorta like when I was taking Fortran.

You took Fortran?
Yes. It was the first computer class I ever took.

What? What an awful way to start!
I know!

How did you do it?
I don't know. I made an A, though--my one college credit in computer science.

WHY did you do it?
Because when I was in college, I wanted to take computer classes and I was told that I needed to have all kinds of math first. (I hated math, although I did pass a required college algebra class pretty easily.)

The computer classes were in the Science Department and it was a very exclusive thing. They had a death lock on who could enter them. I was given a list of all the math classes I would need to take before I could even think of getting into the beginning class. So, I gave it a pass. Turns out I was a natural for programming. They should have looked at my language capabilities. But then, at that time, all things computer were within the purview of the engineering types.

Much later when I took Fortran, I would write code, poke it into the (then) clunky computer and wait........the computer would make all kinds of rather charming noises (I like to think of it as little mice feet running all over the 'pins'.)

The monitor would display the message: "Compiling" while it crunched away.

That's the way I feel when I'm in these in-between, sensory-overload periods......I feel like I should have "Compiling" running in a light-banner across my forehead.

It becomes a quiet mulling of ideas, a mental doodle, a continual, winding sojourn through your own mind-forest.

Sometimes I fear it because of the inactivity. I punch myself in the ribs and think, "I shouldn't be doing this, I should be out there in the studio working." But the worst thought is, "What if I can't create anymore. What if the well just runs dry and there's no more."

It's like being an opera tenor. Their voices are so fragile that at any time, any place, they could lose it all--the voice could go, never to be recaptured. All over.

Creativity for me is not a smooth track, a steadily flowing river. It is torrent and and stillness; raging flood and and draught.

Intellectually, I know the quiet is just as important as the intensity of working. But the quiet still worries me. I feel guilty within it-- like I'm playing hokey. Am I just being creatively lazy?

That's when I need to go out and clean the studio. Or read Ceramics Monthly. Or write about it in my blog.

How the Internet Ate my Brain

2009-03-14T10:03:00.000-07:00

(Unfortunately, this product is no longer available or I would have bought it.)

Used to be, I would go to the dictionary to look up a word. Now I use Google.

If I wanted information, I had two sets of encyclopedia, a bookshelf full of reference books. Ditto on going to Google.

Used to be, I would look up a recipe to find how to use up leftovers or cook whatever. Now I can find more recipes on the web than I need. With any number of variations of one dish.

Used to be, I would turn on my disc player or the radio to hear my favorite music, now I listen on my iPod, my computer, and I'm looking for an iPod-playing radio to hear NPR. (Although I have iPod-ed my favorites programs already.)

Used to be, I would go to the library or a bookstore (I still do, thank God.) to find a book to read. Now I order from the web, have days of books loaded into my iPod. So I save my eyes from reading in bed with dim light. (My hearing will go next.)

Used to be, I would take slides of my work, package up the cartridge, mail it and wait, get them back, check them in a viewer, label and file them in notebook pages. Now I have 3000 jpegs slowing down my computer speed, waiting to be off-loaded onto discs. But I can call them up, export them, copy them, move them around, index them, look at them on a whim.

Used to be, I would write letters to friends or call them occasionally. Now I don't write except at Christmas. But now, along with old friends, I have new friends all of which I will never meet, more than likely, but what friends they are! I've 'known' them for about, oh, maybe 12-15 years. Some I have met in the flesh, but most are cyber friends from discussion groups. And in many ways, I prefer it that way.

They are purely cerebral friendships. Just minds talking to minds. The only thing I miss about discussion group friends is not getting the little nuances of tone of voice, subtle facial expressions and body language--those things in real conversations that give you more meaningful clues. The cyber frriends I have actually met and talked to in real time, however, I feel I understand more fully when I read their emails.

What I like about the email arrangement is that I don't have to answer right away like a conversation in real time. I have more time to think about it before I shoot off my mouth. (Although I AM rather fast at a smart-ass answer, I have to say.)

There's a manegable time-lag. I can send or receive email at my convenience. So when I'm on chasing a clay inspiration, on a cooking jag, want to finish the last part of a book or have declared a cleaning jihad, I can expect to get at it or to luxuriate in unbroken time with no interruptions until I'm ready to be civil again.

(One of the horrors of my many and varied jobs was always the phone. THE PHONE! insistent, unrelenting, and usually the source of another problem on the other end that had to be taken care of RIGHT NOW.......There were days when I considered the knee-hole section of my desk a very inviting location.)

I have an antique Nokia 3588i that I rarely turn on. In my mind, it's for calling OUT only. Like, in an emergency. Like a flat tire. No gas. Forgot my purse. Forgot my shopping list. Things like that.

Besides, I have G-mail/cell phone account.

Call and leave me a message.

I'll get back to you.

Promise.

The Backward Cup

2009-03-08T14:56:00.000-07:00

This is my trick mug.

I say trick, but really, it works well.

One day I was pondering handles. I wondered what makes a good handle? I picked up several of my own mugs and the ones I had collected and held them, closing my eyes.

I realized that most of the contact of the handle was registering at the top and bottom of the loop. At least, that's how it felt when I was holding the cup.

(I never could 'get' the thumb-stop thing. I guess it works if you hold your mug like a lumberjack--elbows out.)

So I wondered. What if you made a handle that was only the contact points?

I love to take it to shows and offer it to someone, handle facing toward them.

The reactions are extremely varied.

Most people refuse to take it by the handle, fearing they will drop it.

Most will wrap their fingers around the opposite side and then, maybe try the handle. Many people will not ever try to hold or test the handle preferring to hook their hand under the top and rest the bottom against their little finger or between their third finger and little finger.

A lot are surprised. And puzzled. Those that do hold the cup as if the handle was a full arc find that even though they know the center is gone, there is a 'ghost' center or full loop sensation anyway.

It makes me wonder what the dividing line is between those people who believe their eyes and those who believe their physical sensation.

Interesting..........

Of course, the inside of the mug is a regular mug--I wouldn't put the rest of the handle inside. Too obvious. After all, a joke is funny at first, but gets old really fast. This way, the mug remains intriguing.

A Spot of Tea

2009-02-28T09:51:00.000-08:00

Just took this out of the kiln this morning--still naked clay--no glaze yet.
This baby is big. Fifteen inches tall; just under the lid on my shorty kiln.

Originally it had feet, but I had to take them off.

This is a new spout too. A bit more difficult to make, but I like it a lot. It's also hand formed, since I don't have a wheel here. Took much longer to make than a thrown one.

I worried that the handle might not make it, but it came through okay.
Several years ago, I cracked the code on how to make and dry these kinds of handles.

It's a secret not for sharing. It took a ton of blood, sweat and lots of smashed pots to get there.

The rest of the kiln contained lots of test tiles of terra cotta, B3 Brown and Hagi Porcelain. I made a tiny house of terra cotta, a small tumbler of the B3 Brown and a free-form vase of Hagi Porcelain.

The Hagi cracked on one end, but I'm going to test glaze it anyway. Very thin walls and a whole new handbuilt form for me and a radical departure from my previous work. The Terra cotta has a nice, interesting hand, but a bit sandy for me; the B3 Brown is lovely. Very responsive. I like it a lot. The Hagi is cranky, a bit short and completely different than the porcelain I've been using. But, oooh, what beauty when it is fired.