Craft, our sanctuary.
Beauty it’s priestess.
Let our refuge lift us up.
A glimmer of an idea can take just a tad too long to move itself from a tremulous tickle in the back of my mind, to a finished thought form cooling in a sun beam, fresh out of a kiln.
(Lately it takes fucking much too long to get work through the kilns…)
Sometimes impatience alone can let a simple design be susceptible to misplaced whim. It becomes an uncomfortable strain to refrain from an overindulgence… lazily creating a “busy”, “complex” surface.
After our trip back home to Iowa, it was decided to try and make a shift in the the studio’s works focus. My studio mate, Jessica Fong, and I are collaborating more closely to explore a new body of work that just might let us play back home in their market. Designs more easily connected to but still very much us.
Round one has Jess throwing me forms, (I absolutely am in love with her vision of form and delight in the idea that she trusts me enough to let me muck about with on their surfaces.) I’ve been drawing and cutting paper designs filled with roosters, fireflies, stars, wildflowers, fish, and crows, slipping up designs and seeing what sticks.
It’s been easy enough to bisque but getting these through the finishing kilns are problematic.
Until then, it’s back to building up a large library bisque ware boxed and waiting for future daydreams while the test pieces trickle out.
The New York Times says “handcrafted small batch ceramics are everywhere theses days.” That may be true, but it comes with a caveat. What’s everywhere are products, not expressions. Results of style… Not soul. Boutique products rather than gallery Art. Admittedly, this statement is a generalization, but it is generalization that’s proving to be generally true. The up side is that there’s now more room in the middle for those willing to play.
This is a short series of 15 works made in celebration of the November and December Leonid meteor shower.
It’s autobiographical, a personal iconography of a celestial herald for change. A herald for countless stories, as I’m sure it is, has been, and must be for others.
There’s a strength and comfort to be found in illusion made real by a life lived.