If at first you don't succe

Long sigh.  Opened the kiln this morning to a sight no potter EVER wants to see... puddles of glaze.  Used several fresh batches- must've been too thick.  Good news: salvaged all 7 olive oil jugs and was able to dremel a few wine bottoms.  Bad news: chuck'd 39 pieces & spent 2 hours grinding glaze off kiln shelves.  Morning coffee in hand, my husband observed from his perch, "How many hours would you say that cost you?"  Hours and hours.   Long sigh.

As I'm dragging a bagful of worthless wine bottoms to the trash, it hits me:  all just part of the journey, I tell myself.  If I could compare notes with the famous artists out there, we'd share a couple laughs over moments we had wanted to jump ship. Like the time I was commissioned to make a basin sink for my sister's friend.

You might call it a Potter's Creed, but word in the studio is: you can't call yourself a potter til you've thrown a thousand pots.  If you've ever tried your hand at throwing, this makes 100% sense.  It's a hundred times harder than it looks.  Just like the ol saying "practice makes perfect", I guess this is an extreme version of that.

Anyhoo, back to the basin.  I was probably 1/3 of the way through my thousand pots when this confident chica commits to throwing a basin sink.  After many-an-hour in the studio with several wobbly bowls, I had me a winner.  Now, to just let the behemoth dry for a couple weeks before the first firing.  I'll never forget walking into the kiln room the day it was to be cooled and out of the cooker, only to find a box on the floor with my name on it.  In the box was my mighty basin in about 8 large sections of what used to be walls, along with a few cup's worth of fired clay chunks.  It had literally blown up in the kiln.  Turns out the thicker bottom portion of the bowl was not entirely bone dry (completely air-dry).  The sides shrunk faster than the bottom and BANG!

That marked the beginning and end of my basin-making days.  But here I am, back on the horse.  Still throwing, still learning, waiting for the next bang.

Favorite Color...

I have pots in every room of my house- a collection that goes back nearly 30 years.  (NOTE: in pottery world, any piece of pottery is lovingly referred to as a 'pot')  Besides discovering a piece that begs to come home with me, nothing thrills me more than meeting the artist whose hands created it.  Even better: a little visiting (spoken like a true Minnesotan).  

This was my inspiration for entering the blogging world: for YOU, my friend, family, customer or CREEPER to get a sneak peak at what I'm all about.  What makes me tick?  Where do these crazy ideas come from? How do I make the 'stuff''?  Who knows.  Maybe my husband will even learn a little about his mate of 21 years.  :o)

ANYHOO.   Back in the studio.... Lots of the awesome blue pieces you see featured in my collection has its beginnings with (appropriately named) Power Turquoise!  Nearly every piece of handmade pottery you meet is not one, but several layers of different colored glazes, creating rich, deep hues.  Below: wine glass bottoms don their first coat.

Anyhoo.... Hungry and en route to REI for new hiking gear, my husband whipped out his ipad with his trusty 'Yelp' app, landing us at a local mediterranean eatery.  Syrian, to be exact.  The Norwegian in me would label it a cross between Greek and Indian.  But what do I know?  If you're in the mood, visit Eden's Grill: www.edensgrill.com

Child #3 is out there roamin the streets of Peoria tonight, freshly-printed driver's license in his back pocket.  Talk about a nail biter.  AND he has MY little Venza.  How folks get through the teen years without prayer is outside my comprehension.