The potter's wheel

Recently I was able to start taking some "throwing" lessons in a potter's studio, One of a Kind Gallery of Bristol, Tennessee.

I'd been able to play around a bit with a potter's wheel in a community seniors' centre class in Kingsport, a couple of years ago, but (even with basic instruction and a demo from the Clay Class teacher) had never really produced anything much more than a few lumps of soggy clay--all of which, after half an hour or so of being pounded and smoothed with wet hands, were considerably smaller, though not noticeably shapelier, than they had been before I began working with them. This was disappointing. I'm an artist, right? I should be able to conquer the potter's wheel! Besides, think of all the gifts I could make for friends and family! And--stranger things have happened--I might even be able to sell my work someday!

I mulled over my failure to learn pot-throwing quickly and easily, while the huge block of raw clay I'd paid for at the Seniors' Centre sat quietly and unused on its shelf in the Clay Room for so long that they finally moved it to a permanent storage spot in the closet.

Then I met One of a Kind Gallery shop owner/potter Ed Lockett at a craftsmen's fair last Christmas. Admiring his hand-thrown coffee mugs, I asked casually whether he ever gave pottery lessons. Yes, he did. He had a classroom setup in the back of his shop, where he could accommodate six or seven students at a time. He gave me schedules and prices. It didn't sound too impossible, though I'd probably have to wait a few months till I'd sold a few more portraits and dolls.

Ever since, I've been nourishing this secret hope that a few "real" (structured) classes in this art would make a potter of me, or at least a slightly more advanced student-practitioner.

This fall, it looked as though my secret hope might be fulfilled. When I called Ed to ask about when the current season's classes would be starting, I learned that he had one slot left in the Tuesday evening group. The class had already had the first of five lessons in the series, but it appeared that one of the pre-registered students wasn't going to be able to make it. This meant there was one wheel just sitting there, unused. I could come for the last four classes and then make up the one I'd missed when the next series started. Did I want to come just to observe and see if it was something I'd like to be part of? Did I!

Circumstances intervened; I showed up for the next week's class an hour late, wondering if this was going to work after all. However, within minutes I found myself wrapped in a clay-stained apron, seated in front of a wheel, one foot on a speed-control power pedal, the other propped on a brick, as I tried to center a lump of clay on the spinning surface before me.

I produced a small bowl during that first half-lesson, although since I had neglected to mark it and didn't remember exactly what it looked like, we weren't able to locate it later on. The next week I came back ready to try again. This time, I failed to produce a single pot, cup, bowl or plate, or, in fact, any recognizable object whatsoever. All that was left of two hours of unceasing effort was a pile of damp clay scraps, a bucket of muddy water, and enough clay splashed on my face and arms to give evidence of my activities that evening.

"I'm just not getting this," I told Ed, throwing my clay-caked apron in the studio's laundry bin as I prepared to leave. "I don't know why it's so hard. I've worked with clay before, you know."

"I was watching you," he told me unexpectedly, "and I think you're pushing too hard. The only time you need to use strength is when you're actually centering the clay on the wheel. After that, only a very light touch is needed."

more later...

This is what my "craft room" looks like at this very moment.

Sunday Gardener papier-mache doll

Just posting a picture of this one because I think she's pretty. She displays a lot of handwork: hand-crocheted lace and hand-worked beading on her blouse, for example, not to mention her sculpted paper-mache head. Her hair is natural golden brown llama wool. Her arms are painted cloth.

All the fabric used in this doll is recycled.

You can see a few more images of this doll at my Etsy shop (see link, above right).

Rag Mop

Picture #1: This is a close-up of a rag mop I made using the leftover button and buttonhole plackets, collars, collarbands, yokes and cuffs from the garments I cut up to recycle the fabric for my handmade dolls. Until now I've been throwing many of these cut-off pieces away; they're too small to be worth taking apart properly in order to use the pieces. I felt bad about wasting them, but they were also too small to be used as rags. UNTIL I thought of using them as the rag strips in a wet-mop.

Husband Peter went shopping for me and found a mop handle with a clamp at the end instead of a mop. Though one can also buy the replaceable mop heads, we decided to create our own, using these long, narrow rag strips.

I chose only cotton fabrics, for absorbency, and decided to use two cuffs as the top and bottom that would hold the other strips together (see picture #3--I canNOT get these pictures to appear in the order I want them) as they were just twice the length of the clamp. Having done some minor Internet research on making one's own rag mops, I discovered that 12" is a fairly good length for mop "strings," so I laid a double row of my narrow rag strips along one of the cuffs, making sure they crossed the cuff where they would be sewed on, and stuck out about 12" on either side of the cuff. I didn't want to make this part too thick, since even my strong sewing machine does have its limits--it can handle up to 9 layers of denim, but with some of these rags there were close to that many layers in the seam allowances. Then I laid another cuff piece over the strips and sewed several times down the middle to hold everything together.

Folding the newly-created mop head in half, I inserted it into the opened clamp and screwed it shut. Behold, a rag mop!

Then I decided to go back and loosen the clamp so I could wrap a few extra cuff pieces around the exposed part of the clamp (picture #2). I hate it when the hard part of a mop scrapes the floor while I'm mopping, don't you?

I believe two of these "mop heads" could be used together in the clamp at the same time for a thicker mop, but I haven't tried it yet. The advantage of a mop like this is that you can remove the head and throw it in the washing machine when it is dirty, thus avoiding the perpetually wet, smelly, mildewy and eventually rotting-out problems that can happen with non-removable mop heads. One could also rotate several heads, thus always having a clean one to use--or even designate different mop heads for different parts of the house (one for the kitchen, one for the bathroom, etc.) One could go farther and colour-code the heads (kitchen is warm colours; bathroom is cool colours...) but some might think this is carrying it a bit too far. I'm all for it, myself, and may use colour-coding for my next series of mop heads.

Haven't tried it out yet...but I wanted to get photos of it while it was still new and clean. Kind of like taking pictures of the kids in their fancy clothes BEFORE the pizza party.

Another bluegrass trio picture

I like this one better. It was done with aquarelle (water-colour) crayons and permanent fine-tip marker for the black outlines. By the way--I have prints of this one for sale!

Bluegrass musicians in coloured pencil

This is a drawing I finished--if any original artwork can ever be called "finished"--a couple of weeks ago during a drop-in artists' get-together I sometimes participate in. The musicians in this picture played at our Farmers' Market a couple of summers ago; they were "busking," or collecting donations in the violin case on the ground in front of them. I gave them a dollar and asked them to play me a tune, which they did. They told me they were booked to play at a wedding later that day. We haven't seen them at the Market since, but everyone wishes they would come back. I was, however, able to take some photographs, with their permission, and this is one of the results.

Farmer's Market, Spring 2009

The Farmers' Market is now open, and you are all cordially invited to come down, look around, enjoy the ambiance of an open-air market where just about everything sold is either grown or made by those selling, and buy something--you'll almost certainly find at least one item you either want or need.

Be sure you check out Jerry and Shirley Witt's home-canned vegetables, preserves and relishes. Their chow-chow (available in several "hotnesses") is delicious on a peanut-butter sandwich, though they gave me a rather strange look when I told them so. Here you see Shirley arranging her display under the interested eyes of several potential customers.