I’ve been having an affair with porcelain slip. The bright pure white against the deep natural brown tones of my clay is electrifying. And then I add deep black underglaze paint strokes to create illustrations that feel like they’re taken right out of my sketchbook. I am checking so many boxes of things I have set out to accomplish this year with my art. Leaving coils unfinished, using more natural colors in my work, successfully marrying my underglaze drawings to my carvings, treating my pieces like sketchbook doodles. I call them doodles yet the forms of my vessels are so much more finished and considered than that. I am making work that I am so proud of.

And then they go into the soda kiln! Which is so unlike anything I have ever done. Spraying the soda mixture into the kiln, knowing I am directly causing what the surface of my pieces look like, it’s amazing and terrifying. Something about being surrounded by flames makes you feel so powerful.

I particularly enjoy the way the underglaze that I am so familiar with in oxidation looks entirely different when it comes out of the reduced soda kiln. We have been firing it to cone 6, so I’m not entirely losing the bright colors I like the play with, but the surface of the underglaze changes exponentially on the salt clay body I’m using. Because my first tests (which were not test tiles at all, but large >1ft vessels) came out so well, I am already making more with the intention of treating them the same way. Brown clay, white slip, black underglaze. Coils unfinished. Loose illustrations, loose pieces. Very opposite of what I usually do. I am embracing the change.

With the grief and sadness I have recently become best friends with, paired with the uncertain times we live in (AHHHHHHHHH), I have been thinking a lot about what it means to be held, and kept safe. Over the course of the past few months, I have been making small ceramic pigeons that fit beautifully in my hands. I started doing them because pigeons have a rather sad history. They were kept as lucrative pets, entered in fancy competitions, and treated like royalty. But the pigeons most are familiar with today live on the dirty streets of cities, unable to even make a proper nest (seriously, look at pigeon nests). They were abandoned by humans, and that breaks my heart. So, I make pigeons. Some of them are missing eyes, some of them have too small wings to fly, but they sit in my hands like they were meant to be there. And I am firing them every single way I can. They started off being underglazed and cold finished, and then I Raku fired them, some have gone through the soda kiln, and I am currently waiting on some to come out of the salt kiln. I even made one of them a maraca, to emphasize that she was meant to be held and played with. They make the best test tiles, and I adore that I’m giving them purpose. With each batch of pigeons, I can’t help but keep one for myself.

With the idea of being held and holding things in my mind, I have also been making some jars. I had only ever made jars on the wheel, but I so much more enjoy hand building them, and once again emphasizing the coils I’m using and all the marks my fingers are making. I’m treating these jars the same way as my larger soda fired vessels. Brown clay, white slip, black underglaze. I am so excited to get them through the kiln. They all have more simple illustrations on them, but I’m pairing them with text and phrases, leaning more on the humorous side. I always tend to process my feelings with humor and comedy, and although the deeper meaning of my work right now is not very positive, and neither is the world we live in, I love writing my silly little phrases on my work and being able to laugh about them. If I can have something to smile about, and it makes other people smile, then that’s successful work to me.

Illustrations on Clay, Holding Things, and Pigeons

Mental Health and Mud 2: Life and Grief