Going to Pot

Back from college this evening so thought I'd post a few comments about how my ceramics work is progressing.

These past few months I've been developing some coil pots, which is not method I've really used for many years. Production has much slower than say throwing on the wheel. With coiling you can only added so many layers of coiled clay at a time before you have to consolidate and allow the clay to dry a little, otherwise it might collapse. Also at present I can only work at college, so I get just over two hours a week to work. What it is to have your own facilities and come and go as you please!

So why use coiling, some might ask? Well it's a valid and traditional production method, a good skill to master. You don't need fancy equipment- in fact some of the best coil pots I have seen were produced using the husk from a corn cob! For me it is allowing me time to think more about the forms I wish to develop. In so doing I am moving away from regular, functional forms towards purely ornamental work.

The image above is my current work-in-progress which I have just sent for Bisque firing. I also have loaded in the Glaze kiln another piece, which should be back next Tuesday all being well. Maybe I'll post a pic of it if I'm happy with the outcome.



30 Oct 07 W says: oh how cool i love it is that one from coils hun?

Clare

Clare. The County Clare. In the far west of Ireland looking out to the Aran Islands and the wild Atlantic. Here tracks weave out over the bogs and the limestone hillocks that form The Burren to hidden farms and cottages where lanterns dot the night under a million silvery stars. And then the rain comes in. Sideways rain. Rain in bucketfuls. Drizzled rain and grey rain that is half mist. It seeps into your bones.

Somewhere between Kilfenora and Ennistymon is where my brother Paul lives with Josephine and the two lads. A brook bubbles by and cows low deeply as morning sheds its pale light over the rolling fields. Vehicles pass at the rate of one an hour on a busy day.

Up in Kilfenora the Guinness flows at night. It sits lined up in pint glasses on the bar like black nectar waiting to be topped up. There's no hurry. You drink it down remembering the old ad slogan - "Guinness is good for you" - but did they mean six of them? By the end of the evening the thick County Clare brogue is like a foreign language but there are no subtitles.

Yesterday - Sunday - I took Paul and the lads up the coast to Black Head via Fanore. White horses were racing in and the coast felt elemental, the wind and the waves seeming to laugh at the pinprick silhouettes of human beings bending into the weather.

I have been here many times. I have seen it changing over the years. Seen pubs closing and bungalows being built - the influx of tourists who come to stay from Holland or France or Germany and Irish migrants coming home. I have heard the Celtic Tiger roaring and seen the village stores introduce new fangled products like rice and coffee and pasta. But while some things change "The deep heart's core" remains - the peculiarly egalitarian Irish sense of community and the humour that flows, the kindness and the music and the stories and beneath all of it - the land - as ancient as time itself - limestone pavements and caves and settlements where Stone Age, Bronze Age and Iron Age people lived for the days they were living in, oblivious of a future that would contain aeroplanes and electricity and plastic and an arrogant belief that it has dispelled all mystery and magic.

Isn't it Getting Dark Early?

I love Autumn (or the Fall if you're Trans- atlantically challenged) and now the clocks have changed, we're officially there. All those colours on the trees and leaves on the ground to kick through. Wrapping up warm and taking long walks, maybe with a dog if you have one, to a pub with a fire, good food and hopefully good company. I dream of hearty meals ending with Apple Pie and Custard, Hot Sticky Toffee Pudding or perhaps Spotted Dick.

Looking back at some of my old blogs, I realise it is at this time of year I have previously taken myself off to West Dean College to pot for a week. I had promised myself if I got back into full-time employment, I would go again. Last Autumn didn't count as technically I was temping via an agency but what was my excuse this year? I don't know. It's not as if I'm not still addicted to ceramics so maybe I need give this some thought what happened...

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