EPILOGUE

A student in one of the family workshops made this drawing of me

while waiting for the smoking barrel

to work its magic on our pots...

I have it here in New York City.

It hangs now in my kitchen, to remind me that I was there.

On Monday, UPS is due to deliver the works that I made at the Tin Shop studio.

Meanwhile I wrestle with the realities of being back in the city.

I am trying very hard to follow the wise words that urge me to 

'be HERE now...'

I am trying to re-enter life in this place

where the pace is so different from that 

when I was 'making mudpies in the Rocky Mountains'.

I am grateful for all that is part of my life here, 

as well as for all that was part of this rich, joyous, creative adventure there.

I repeatedly told studio visitors that I came to Breckenridge to continue

the series of smoke fired 'Bottomless Vessels to Hold Change'

that I had started in my London studio.

I did also quote the Haystack 'welcome speech' several times: that

'no matter what you think you came for, be open to the something else that will unfold...'

and so now I am looking forward to being open

to whatever might continue to unfold....

Next month I have a residency at the Art Complex Museum

in Duxbury, MA.

If the technology there allows, I will do a blog from there.

Otherwise I sign off now from blogger-land 

and thank you for being part of my Colorado residency...

The Final Days at the Tin Shop

We had a clay community pit fire and...

one final barrel firing

as part of the Arts District Celebration.

We got everything loaded and set on fire just as the rains began...

and then, the following day

It was time to finish up

and clean up in the Tin Shop studio...

This place will forever be a joyous memory...

A place I am already longing to return to...

With fingers crossed that the two

'Bottomless Vessels to Hold BIG Change' will have by now had a safe firing...

Jenn looks confident as she readies this one

for the car journey to the kiln.

I snapped this photo before we closed the kiln lid.

Then I went back to the studio to finish cleaning up 

and packing up for my return to the big apple city.

I DO Love a Parade

Small Town Parades are a bit different from the big city style. Not wanting to miss the Friday celebration on Main Street, I left this second group of 'my girls' (and boys) on the worktable and headed out for some pre-parade mimosas and quiche..

Out-of-towners and local residents lined the streets and cheered each bit of the parade. Locals waved to their friends and photographers seemd to be having a field day.

It was indeed close to high noon when we had this special parade treat: the staged old western style gun fight between the good guys and the bad guys. After one good man was left standing, and the crowds roared, everyone who'd been 'shot' got up and the guys moved on down the street to do another fight after marching further toward the mountains.

After tastey treats from a local barbeque, I went back to continue painting and gilding, and enjoyed my parade of studio visitors. More than fifty people came inside to look and chat about my work and about their own experiences with clay.

It is fascinating to hear who 'my girls' seem to be in the eyes of their beholders. I love it when different people get the same sort of feeling from a piece. Their reactions to the concept of 'Bottomless Vessels to Hold Chnage' actually expand the essence of my original idea. And I love the names that visitors give to my'girls'...

Often I have titled a work using the suggestion of a studio visitor. Surely some of these works have not yet fully revealed their mystery to me... And the one below has been so changed by the barrel fire that she is not at all who she seemed to be in her beginnings...A petite woman with blue-grey hair came into the studio on Friday afternoon and looked carefully at every photo on the wall; inquired about my architectural ceramics; studied the finished works on the shelf in the cabinet; and then looked at this piece that was on the worktable -awaiting the final touches of white gold leaf in her hair. I had not told this visiting 'fairy-godmother-like' visitor that I am in search of names.

But she loooked me in the eye and whispered, 'That is Evangeline!'

When I responded with a puzzled look, she elaborated, '...from Longfellow's poem, EVANGELINE'

OK OK, so I have looked it up on the internet. This poem is a gazillion pages long. I promise to get a hard copy so that I can actually read the poem and decide if indeed this is who she is. But where are the Cliff Notes when you need them?

In the meantime, it is interesting to hear what other visitors who have actually read the poem feel about this name as an appropriate title. Most do seem to see a melancholy in her face. Some have suggested that she has risen from the ashes of some tradgedy, perhaps the loss of her one true love.... I wish I could know what you think...

Now on this nearly final day of this fabulous residency, I will head over to the parking lot where we will have a pit fire and a barrel fire today, as part of an Arts District celebration... And I hope that the weather holds and that it will not rain on our parade.

And even MORE !

I had thought that I had come into this residency with the intention of continuing the London series of smoke fired 'Bottomless Vessels to Hold Change'.... And even though I have quoted in writing and to many visitors and students, the words of wisdom of Howard Evans, that "no matter you think that you came (here) for, that is not what you will get... So be open to what unfolds..."; I have to admit that now having the chance to work with a wood form similar to the one that I used at the International Ceramic Studio in Hungary is way beyond what I had hoped to be able to do.

This wood form was made by Piers Peterson, soon-to-be-husband of Iris Bedford, student and studio assistant for the use of this wood form.

Now drying in my studio: 'Bottomless Vessel to Hold BIG Change'

A second one...

Each of these is as tall as the kiln.. hopefully I have measured well! About 26 inches, after the shrinkage of drying.

And now it is time to stop making new works and focus on finishing works that are drying and that are ready to be painted, fired, smoked and gilded.

I am reminded by studio visitors that this is not the time to worry about how on earth I will get these 'babies' home to NYC...

Ok. OK. So now as I step into the studio, with 5 days and 5 nights remaining here as artist-in-residence, I wonder how I can best assist the unfolding of whatever else there is yet to be...

More of Something Else

While these works sat on my worktable, awaiting my decision about their fates: (back into the kiln to und0 the effects of the barrel-fire smoke, or prepare them for their gold leafing), I had the chance to step outside of the studio to experience more of the 'something else'.

A glorious drive: the scenic Boreas Pass...

John Gill once told me and his other students at Haystack Mt School of Crafts, to 'pay attention to what you notice...' So my camera helps me to take another look...
Texture and edges..

Texture and shape and..

Surprises when I remember to stop and look closely...

Color surprises...

The surprise of snow in summer...


Surely taking in the beauty of the Colorado countryside is 'more of the something else' that I get from this Breckenridge Arts District residency. It is indeed a sharp contrast to the visual input that I get in my daily life in New York City.

And so it was with an uplifted spirit that I greeted the Sunday visitors to my Breckenridge studio. I was actually surprised that they responded so positively to the effects of the smoke... And my muse seemed to singing and dancing as I painted the underglazes and glazes on a second group of 'my girls'... Getting these 'Bottomless Vesssels to Hold Change' ready for the next step in their transformation...

Talking the Talk

Why is it so easy to talk the talk? But then why is it such a challenge for me to listen to what I say to my students? I urge them to be open to the changes that the smoke and fire bring, and then I am shocked and not so ready to accept what unfolds...

My Angel of Peace seemed to me to be so sweet and gentle when she emerged from the clay; while I was painting her; and even after coming out of the glaze firing. I put her and some of the other 'Girls' into the barrel and started the fire... Hoping that the transformation would change her enough so that she might look like a woman with wisdom.Here she is rising up out of the ashes. But perhaps she may be a bit too much transformed by the fire.... It seems to be a bit of a challenge to accept the radical change in her appearance.

I know, I know, I keep saying that the magic of the art process, (at least this barrel-firing process), is that somehow the fire fates seem to create the works beyond the point that I might take them. That I should have no assumptions or expectations. That I should trust the process. That I should trust that it will work...

But it is not so easy to do this...

There may be a bit more cleaning up that I can do for her. I may decide to put her back into the electric kiln to erase all that the barrel smoking has done to her. But for now, I am reserving judgement and going down to the studio to paint, paint, paint...

The local newspaper came to the studio to film yesterday, and I am reminded again that no matter what I think I came here for, that this residency will bring 'something else'. That perhaps this is now the time of the 'something else'. And I do indeed want to be open to this.

Surely getting to hear Richie Havens perform here in Breckenridge last night is part of that 'something else'.

As the Sun Sets in the Western Skies

So much has happened here since my last post on Monday. It has indeed been a busy week: many curious and encouraging visitors to the studio while I worked; a Gold-leaf-on-clay mini workshop; a making-clay-faces-demo at Colorado Mountain College; 3 barrel-firing workshops for community participants; my own first barrel-firing since my studio days (and late nights...) at Cockpit Arts, Deptford, London... Whew...

Workshop Participants write thank you notes and wishes to be burned inside of their magical pinch pots...

Pots are placed inside of barrel with paper and wood shavings...

Watching the smoking barrel..

Lifting pots out of the barrel with raku tongs.

Pots cooling on the ground...

Washing the pots..

Polishing with tile sealer...

One of the magical pinch pots with its maker...

Someone noticed the sky and we all went ouside to enjoy the sun setting in this magical place.

Perhaps good things do come to those who wait...

The stream of studio visitors over this week-end seemed to be especially joyous. Almost everyone admired the student's pots awaiting the firing in the kiln. And now as I tap these keys the kiln is heating up to temperature with these pots inside.

Also now in the kiln are four of the smaller 'Bottomless Vessels to Hold Change' that I made while I was waiting for the larger ones to go through their firing cycle. Maybe these are for 'small change'? Whatever their purpose, they were a joy to create. While visitors came in to the studio with questions and comments, I felt like I was doing quick sketches in clay. I think that I was more playful, perhaps because these were the pieces that I was making 'while I was waiting...'

Also while conversing with a couple from Southern California, I started a 'wall work'. I got so caught up, the day flew by and I totally forgot that I'd been on pins and needles awaiting the opening of the kiln.

Someone visiting the studio suggested that the work is reminiscent of a Madonna figure. If so, then perhaps she could be called 'Madonna of the Rockies'.... For now, she is drying slowly, and she reminds me that sometimes good things do come to those who wait.

Now I am headed down to the studio...can you believe the commute is a simple stairway...it takes a nanno second, really.

All of 'the big girls' made it through the kiln firing. Now come the color choices. Painting and pouring undergalzes and glazes. Keeping in mind that no matter what I plan, the kiln and the smoking barrel can often seem to have their own ideas!

Into the Firing Chamber

Transport to the CMC Ceramic Studio seems to have gone well. The new 'Bottomless Vessels to Hold Change' are now in the kiln for a slow bisque firing. They should be ready to emerge late Sunday night. Fingers are crossed...

I am always a bit on edge while my works are in the kiln. Wondering what to do while I await the verdict of the kiln gods. A good time to take a walk or watch a film...?

But open studio starts in a few minutes now; and I want to work on something new. But nothing that will take longer than today and tomorrow. Though I will not make any assumptions, I do want to trust that all will make it through the firing, and that I will be able to take each one through the painting and glazing steps and then through a second kiln firing.

The waiting is always a challenge.
Best to get into the studio, unwrap some clay, begin something new, and enjoy today's stream of visitors...

Meanwhile the sky is blue, the flowers here have unfolded, and the sun is brilliant.

While Angels Dry

While Angels continued to dry slowly on studio shelves , the energies of workshop-participants filled the room with a creative buzz.

They pinched and shaped the clay...

Paddled ...

Scraped ...

Decorated...

Embellished...

And burnished their pots with my Grandmother's silver spoon and other handy tools.

Conversations ebbed and flowed as intentions and attentions were focused on the clay.

The excitement of the magical nature of the process filled the studio,
and now a few dozen 'magical pinch pots'are also drying

awaiting their firing in the electric kiln,

in preparation for next week's smoking in the barrels....

I hope that I gave them what they needed to make their works,
to follow their own muses,

and to experiment with their own solutions to technical challenges...

I trust that the makers of these pots enjoyed their process.
And that they will love the finished works - as a record of this magical process.

Going for the Gold

This weekend brought many visitors to Breckenridge to pan for gold in the center of town, to dress up in old-time outfits, and to celebrate the history of this amazing town.

Many visitors stopped by the studio, and on Sunday evening the local TV aired a video shot in my studio.

But on camera, I was totally wrong about the history of pinch pots!

Given that I recently co-led the family program at the Metropolitan Museum, called 'Potsabilities', I ought to have remembered my facts. The pottery-making tradition is not really quite 35,00 years old! Perhaps that number represents the number of ceramic pieces in the museum's collection??

In truth, the oldest clay pots were made about 12,000 - 17,000 years ago: the Jomon pottery in Japan. And the earliest ceramic objects may be the Venus figures from about 31,000 years ago.

And so, for not-so-accurate numbers that I gave during my interview, I send apologies to my program director at the Met Museum, Dr. Mike Norris...

Perhaps it was the high altitude, or the excitement of being on-camera, that created the fuzzy memory for the facts??

In any case, the TV spot may have generated some more interest for the workshops this week. I think that these are now full. And I am looking forward to seeing what magical pinch pots and imaginery animals, these workshop participants will create..

Now, as I tap these keys, the barrels for the 'smokings' are on their way up from Denver in my brother's truck... So I think I had better get into the studio and make some more works to go into those barrels for next week's smoke-firings...

After the smoke-fires, applying the 23 k. gold leaf will be final step....