About Making Pots
I became interested in pottery slowly bit by bit over time, maybe I was a potter at heart but I didn’t know until later. At first it was looking at pots that caught my attention, I was intrigued. It seemed like alchemy.
Starting out I was impatient, and when I did succeed the pots looked ugly, static and disappointing. They seemed to think so too. I would give up, be cross, not think about it …but I would try again.
One day a pot worked and when I looked at it, it seemed to smile back at me. This sounds like a fairy story and it is. A potters fairy story.
crumbly biscuity and rocky
tasks include bending
pushing hitting thumping
wetting whirling rolling
tapping smoothing
scratching looking
checking checking
repeat repeat repeat focus on the form
Successful pots require steady concentration and note taking.
The form of my pots has evolved with firing, as I single fire they have to survive. I’m not interested in uniformity so painting my glazes on gives textual interest I try not to be too serious or neat, I like things to flow and with practise in the zone, play, chance, mischief, serendipity, mistakes, random thoughts, cheekiness, silly possibilities, and of course any emotional overload makes its mark and mingles alongside any the serious intent.
into firm soft ground
awakens child delight
brush touchdown
the pressure loads
the richness darkens
to drive and drag
this moving line..
the tip it tickles as it lifts
singing in my soul
A very favourite book of mine is Hamada by Bernard Leach. Hamada talked of “eating “ pots. I knew that feeling, if you have a painters instinct, have that strong visual impulse that momentarily overwhelms your senses and you feel your brain vacuuming up all it sees, it feels like eating!
In the firing it is remarkable how the work of the flames highlights mistakes, random accidents and spontaneous gestures, I like to make use of this tendency of the fire when I decorate my pots. It is where the interplay between intent and random flippancy comes into play, the moment to find a balance.
I single fire and often refire my pots, experimenting and note taking all the time. Oxygen and the dancing flames provides wonderful surprises, disappointments and excitement when the kiln opens, but also cryptic messages that leave me pondering and in search of answers.
Clay is magical but it is a life long apprenticeship to become a magician, playing with mud is fun, investigating and devising glazes, enjoying their age old history, firing kilns, being at one with the kiln. This is my delight.
clay and me
alone and happy