open studio

Today is the day when I have to pull myself away from my work and clean up the joint for my Open Studio. All you Bay Area types should hoof it on over to my place because it is going to be a major clearing out sale. Everything that isn't gone by Sunday is going to be put up on Etsy so you non-Bay Area types can score on some of my pottery too. Go to my website for details on the where and when! Hope to see you there!

success can be dangerous

I really like horoscopes, palm readers, tarot cards, and numerology. I know most people think these things are kooky. The homepage on my browser opens up to Aquarium Age Astrology so that everyday I can be reminded of the forces outside of myself. This helps me to focus my energy on what I believe is my higher spiritual calling—art—and not on the things that hold me back from my calling such as stress, anxiety, and my fears of what’s going to happen to me when I’m an old lady and I got no retirement fund.

I read two horoscopes a week, the other being Free Will Astrology. I often get a kick in the pants from Free Will, and I keep thinking about one I got a couple of weeks ago. I think this is actually a message for all artists:

"Success is dangerous," said Picasso. "One begins to copy oneself, and to copy oneself is more dangerous than to copy others. It leads to sterility." Sorry to start your horoscope with a warning, Leo, especially given how much beautiful success you've generated recently. But the astrological omens suggest you may soon be tempted to turn your spontaneous outpourings into pat formulas. And that would be a shame. There's still a lot more fresh hot mojo brewing within you, and it'll reach its highest expression if it keeps surprising you. Trust what's fresh, uncategorizable, and at the frontiers of your understanding.

I keep thinking about this as I go about my work, because right now I’m going through a period of transition in my work and I’m feeling a bit lost. It is tempting to re-interpret old designs into something new just to keep myself busy. I’ve had several weeks now of low production, and I keep telling myself that it’s okay, and to give myself the time I need to make new work. I think every artist needs to hear Picasso’s message, and I’d love to hear from people on how they resist – or don’t resist—the temptation to copy themselves.

the universe listens

I’m feeling slightly perkier today; the kiln problem was finally fixed without having to call in the kiln doctor for a house call, and I’m leaving for Atlanta tomorrow morning with my husband for a big all-out, no-holds-barred, over-the-top wedding. Naturally this required a new dress, which always makes me happy. And I made something new today:

I know lots of people have this same thing happen to them: When you are open to a new experience, somehow that experience is delivered to you. I had my new slabroller set up for exactly 24 hours when someone walked through the door and asked me to make a ceramic house. 6 Months ago I would have said “no”, because I don’t handbuild work. But now I can say “yes” and bam, an order for a ceramic house. It’s very strange how this works and it happens to me all the time.

By the way, Universe, if you are listening, I’m ready for another gigantic order now. Five-figures, please!

more kiln dread

My zen-like approach has been challenged in the last couple of days as my kiln craps out on me. We changed the elements in the kiln and then the kiln was not heating up. So I changed the relays, thinking they were burned out. Nothin’. I called around for a new transformer and found one on the other side of the Bay but I wouldn’t be able to get it till the next day. Rrrrrrr. Meanwhile, work has ground to a halt and there is a shelf of bisqueware that was supposed to be glazed and shipping out this week.

Things rarely go as planned, as usual. I went to my meditation class yesterday (yes, I finally took Hector’s advice and started a meditating class) feeling very pre-Japan: angry and frustrated. I came out of class feeling… better, but definitely in need of a large glass of wine. It's so easy to be calm and centered when things are going well, so difficult when they aren't...

I just got off the phone with yet another kiln tech who has his own theories on why my kiln isn’t doing its job, and I’m about to go test it out and see if he’s right. Cross your fingers.

fresh approach

I think my time in Japan really changed my brain in several ways. To honor this I’m changing the look of my blog. I’ve been really happy with how it looked until recently; all of the sudden it seemed stale. Do you like it? I do. I may not stick with these colors—I’m having a bout of insomnia right now and when I wake up in the morning these colors might be more than I can handle. But at 3:30 in the morning it looks pretty good!

One thing that has been different lately is I have been a lot more patient with myself and my work. I know from experience that everything in the studio takes a lot longer than you ever think it will. I know this, but I’ve always fought it, always pushing for things to go faster than they possibly can and getting all worked up about it. I’ve noticed since I’ve been back that I seem to be okay with giving everything the amount of time it needs and not having an expectation that it should be any different than it is.

For example, I’ve started to think about how all the elements that make my business run are just as important as making a pot, and that includes answering the phone, paying my bills, filing paperwork, taking photos, and following up with clients. I don’t always do these things conscientiously because I often find them to be annoying distractions from my work. Once I accept these things as vital and important rather than annoying, I don’t feel as bothered going through the motions of doing it. I’m giving the task the time it needs and then getting back to what I really want to do: make pots. And I work better knowing that I’ve done the things that enables me to make pots everyday.

ready... go!

With Sara’s help, we finished off the remodel on the studio yesterday. Everything is put away in its new place, the new slab roller is set up, and I’m ready to go. When I’ve been away from clay for a while, I always go back to it with a sense of anticipation and dread. Getting back into it can be hard, and it can take a couple of hours to feel comfortable again. The good thing is that I have a stack of orders to make so at least I don’t have to think about what I’m going to throw today!
Doesn't Sara look cool sawing ware boards with her big ole sunglasses on?

the clay is waiting

The studio is still in the process of being put back together. I’m trying to contain myself and my impatience to get back to work and put it all back together in a thoughtful way. I’m almost there. In the meantime I thought I would post a comment that came through the other night to an old post, and my response to it. I edited the comment to get to the heart of what the person was writing. As someone who has fallen in love and been brokenhearted many times I could totally feel for this person, while also being pleased that I’ve gotten some distance and some perspective on the pitfalls of love!

Maria wrote:
Today I googled "how to let go of beautiful moments" and this blog came up as a result 'cause of the words Beautiful and Let Go. Oddly, I am a ceramic student w/ 1 more class to take to graduate:... I'm trying to let go of this one guy and the moments we shared, hence my google search. ..And, well, I've kinda lost all desire to work with clay…How could something like a break-up drive me away from clay when on the contrary, I feel I should have gotten me more into it, if only to not think of him… I guess the question is, how does one work with clay or any art consistently when everything around you seems to be falling apart? But I think I know the answer already "just start making something and don't stop" But it is so hard. :(

I wrote:
Everything IS falling apart, all the time. As human beings we are (usually) blessed the ability to cope with our ongoing process of falling apart and learning from it. Nothing is perfect and it never will be. But we are driven to try for those perfect moments, and keep trying. If you are an artist you have the amazing ability to create something beautiful from this process of trying and striving and sometimes --often-- failing. Enjoy it. Quit yer cryin' and get back to work! The clay is waiting!