My Own Worst Enemy

I know these pictures would instantly qualify me for an episode of my own on hoarders, but let me at least  try to defend myself.

When I was rearranging everything in the front room of the studio, here and here, everything that wasn't part of that studio re-do was put ( dumped) back here in the pottery rooms until I would have a chance to go through it all.

That chance hasn't arrived yet. 

So pretty much everything I need to use is buried under piles of stuff.

The shot above is what you would see as soon as you enter the back door of the studio.

You have to be very agile as you walk through for fear of falling or breaking a leg!

To the right, behind the section of countertop is my slab roller.

Ray had originally built me a wonderful work island out of 2 rows of base cabinets back to back and covered the top with formica, very easy to work with clay and cleanup.

It too is buried under all you see here, clay, tools, molds, boxes, templates etc.

The rolling carts hold other tools which had to move from their spot in the front studio during the redo.

Looking to the back wall you can see the big commercial stainless steel sinks, one section is filled with a tool caddy and buckets and various other clay paraphenalia.

When I began working in ceramics, I did a lot of slip casting with molds which I taught myself.

I really liked working with the vintage molds and doing assemblage of different pieces to come up with originals.  I viewed clay as my canvas, i was more interested in the decoration end of it than the forming end of it.

I have a wheel but don't use it, preferring slab construction and I couldn't see myself becoming a production potter. Nowadays my shoulder and back wouldn't allow it.

So the biggest obstacle to my being able to reorganize and work in here is my sizable collection of molds, some 3000+  most of which are no longer available as just about every ceramic company has gone out of business and sold the master blocks overseas to companies who now use them to make finished ware.

I would love to get a storage building to house them in, we got a quote for a pole building but having to put a new metal roof on this building this year has shot that idea, too much to afford in one year.

My husband said just get rid of them.    Silly boy.

Over the years I have donated hundreds to the school programs along with various other supplies.

The ones on the shelves lining the walls aren't the problem. The ones all over the floor and countertops that can't fit on the shelves are the problem!

Although, if I had the shelving free i could put slips and glazes on those eliminating my need for other storage shelving and units around, freeing up a lot of space.

The kiln room hasn't been spared either. Originally this shelving unit was for overflow of molds and to dry greenware.

The top of my large Skutt kiln has a big tray of doll arms and legs and the other smaller kiln has one of my containers of candy and ice cream molds ( I used them for clay)

The built in shelving which holds my pug mill is filled to the brim under and over.

So here's why I said I am my own worst enemy.

I have discovered that if I am unable to be doing what I want to do, be it jewelry, pottery, art of any kind, due to work or other obligations, I find that I will order supplies for said venture instead.

I guess it must make me feel like I am doing SOMETHING.

Getting closer in some way.

Collecting everything, hunting and gathering for the day when i can get to do it all.

Surrounding myself with all the supplies.

I will take a class and get excited about a new technique and gather all the new tools and supplies needed for it.  I have such high hopes.

The problem is, it is actually preventing me from actually being able to do what i want to do. A sort of self sabotage if you will.

This realization came to me recently as I looked around at all this STUFF!

Price tags come with all this stuff, which keeps me having to work which keeps me from being in my studio. DUH!

Last year I mentioned having an epiphany that woke me in the middle of the night, it involved getting back to clay. So I ordered new clays to work with, got some new drywall boards, cut them and taped the edges, made some molds, investigated new glazes,  and then winter came and we left for Florida and that was the end of that.

Upon coming home we were catapulted back to the real world and our crazy work schedule.

So here I am a full year after getting those boards taped and supplies bought and I still haven't done a thing with clay. Pathetic isn't it?

This is my work table at the studio. The pieces you see here were the last ones I was working on before my precious grandson was born in June of 2008.

The slab plates and trenchers, blank slates waiting to be given life.

The vintage birds with cutout backs were going to become pincushions complete with a strawberry filled with emery ( which i might add took me a long time to find) hanging from their beaks.

The small tiles pressed from a wonderful collection of springerle molds.

This makes me sad everytime i see them sitting on this table.

So now you can see why in my last post I said this wasn't a simple fix.

I have been living vicariously through other peoples' blogs when they are setting up a new studio or beginning a new venture.

Spending too much time here disappearing down the rabbit hole.

Wishing I had more space, more time, more....

Enough is quite enough, as I imagine Mary Poppins saying.

It's time I got back .

 I'm not quite sure how and where to start, but begin I must.

My creative soul depends on it!



So What Am I Missing??

My studio.

This sculpture sits on the back deck near the door to my pottery studio.

We renovated an old store starting from the ground up, literally, having the building jacked up and having a new foundation built under it, back in the late 90's.

Then we had the siding, windows, doors and roof done.

Then for one Christmas I asked for a set of stairs to reach the second floor as we had torn down the outside stairs which used to lead to the upstairs apartment when doing the siding.

Then we completely finished the inside and I moved my studio in late 2001-into early 2002.

Standing on the front sidewalk of my house looking towards the corner where my studio sits.

I used to head down there in the early morning, coffee cup in hand, full of excitement over what I would accomplish that day.

I miss those days terribly.

In 2007, after we found broken headlight glass on the corner by the deck, we decided to build a substantial raised bed flower garden to slow anyone who might get into an accident on the corner and go careening into the building. It worked , as a fews years ago that very thing happened, busting the end off the raised bed and doing some damage to the deck.

(Had we known at the time that the state was going to come in and take so much road frontage for a turn lane, we would have had the building moved back a ways when we had it up on the house moving jacks.)

When I would go down in the mornings, I would water the planters and admire all the flowers and plants taking hold.

It was my happy place. A place of peace and contentment.

Sadly, this is how my garden looked this year. Neglected.

We boarded up the huge front windows late last year when hurricane Irene was barreling towards us and since I haven't been in there to work anyway, we just left it up this year.

Last year I did plant a row of hibiscus along the west side where the red tipped photinias all succumbed to some disease and died off. Funny thing, the ones on the east side all survived and are about 10-12 feet tall!

This year we also had to replace the roof, the one seen here was damaged in Irene and when we went to replace the missing shingles, found they were not in good shape overall and we had a metal roof put on.

Believe it or not, those hibiscus are 3+ feet tall !

This year, the oak leaf hydrangea that I planted a few years ago outdid itself in full bloom!

As you can see, the planters never got replanted this year.

I miss stacking the kiln with the annual patriotic Fire-Works pieces and firing them on the 4th of July

I miss rushing the kiln opening to just sneak a peek inside.

Every potter I know likens a kiln opening to Christmas morning and that feeling never fades!

I miss designing and drawing and carving the clay

All of this work was done totally freehand.

Sitting here it's hard for me to even remember how I did it all.

I miss the knowledge and honed skills I had then.

I miss the feeling of the clay in my hands.

Taking the slab from the roller and draping it over a mold I made from plaster or one my father turned on the lathe for me, smoothing it with my hands to conform to the shape, trimming and finishing and waiting until it was leatherhard to remove from the mold, then covering it in slip and quickly carving the design through ( sgraffito) before coloring with oxides and glazing.

The reason I haven't been back is complicated.

Back in 2008, when my daughter was about to have her second child, our grandson, we knew we couldn't handle 2 young ones in the office at the restaurant. Our granddaughter was just 19 months old and used to come and stay up there with my daughter while she worked in the office full time. Ray and I wouldn't have to be up there all the time. I usually would go in early when I had to and then head to the studio. Many days I wouldn't have to go in until the evening and I would just head to the studio for the day to work.

So when she left to stay home with the 2 babies, Ray and I divided her responsibilites between us instead of putting someone else up there in case she wanted to return one day. This now meant we were putting in full days and nights there.

My world changed entirely.

Now pottery is not something you can start and walk away from for days on end before finishing, so I switched gears and started down the path of jewelry making instead.

I had a good start already, I began with a fused glass class in 2004 which quickly led to an earrings class to learn the basics of wire wrapping and fabrication and I was on my way. 

But a couple of years ago I started to feel like I was losing my way. I wasn't sure what I was doing anymore or even why. I was losing my authentic self.

I started this blog as a way to work through it all and hopefully find my muse again and with it my direction and passion.

Don't get me wrong, I love making jewelry, working with metals, seeing an idea come to fruition, but something is missing.

The blogosphere has been speaking to me in bits and pieces of posts from many artists talking of passion and following it.

Remember your childhood and what you loved spending your time doing?

What wakes you in the middle of the night with a new idea?

Gets you going first thing in the morning running to the studio to work out the idea?

What medium could you not give up or do without?

The answers kept bringing me back to clay.

I am missing clay.

In my next post I'll address why this isn't a simple fix.