I took these pieces down to John Polak, a photographer in Easthampton, MA for him to work his magic on them. For me it's always a little strange knowing the pieces so well to then see them in the "professional slide format." I'm grateful for John's expertise in committing them to digital record, he really knows his stuff. It's always a pleasure to see a true craftsmen in his element. But, they almost look a bit foreign to me. Maybe it's like listening to a recording of yourself talking where you think, "Do I really sound like this?" Perhaps it's the way my perception of my own pottery is almost exclusively tangible. Their tactile details are indistinguishable from their visual details.
It is also a lot of fun for me to look at these images with that professional air about them. It really makes the pot stand up on it's own feet and command my attention.
These faceted cups make a nice pair. They helped me restrain the urge to trim round feet underneath. I learned sometimes just cutting an angle with a big kitchen knife is the way to go.
This bottle is probably my favorite for the time being. These are just two side of a piece that has a whole lot of great details 360 degrees in every direction.
This bottle was in a raging kiln for three days, but became buried under coals that insulated the piece from temperatures past pit firing temps. It laid on it's side and developed the bright orange nebulas where it sat. It's really pourous; I rinsed it out with water and it started soaking that water right up.
In the left corner we have a nuka-glazed pitcher inspired by medieval English jugs. Sort of a East meets West fusion of Japanese glaze on an Anglo form.
And in the right corner, we see a ovoid jug that took some serious ash hits to the membrane.
This guy was fired on his side resting on a cookie of iron-bearing clay that resisted the flame and left it's own mark.
Two faces to this vase; that red and blue markings to the left leave me speachless.
I find myself really missing the clay that was used to make this bottle. We dug it from the bottom of the hill in the llama pasture across from the studio. It felt great to throw and really opened up when cut or trimmed. And the brick red color leaves me nostalgic for shoveling it out of a ditch and into a pickup.
Ok, so this pot is the "better one" from the previous post all cleaned up and presentable. Despite a crack on the inside I totally love it. As my first success at making a large coiled pot I couldn't be happier. Not even to mention the amazing surface that developed in the kiln.
