An amateur’s reinvention

The past two weeks have been quite a push and a stretch and a jump for me- because I’ve been working in the little shed studio!

I got my butt in there, set out my pots and paintbrushes and finally put underglaze to clay. The experience has been a tense combo of wanting to go big and messy asap, while still sort of toddling along in a stilted and clumsy way.

 

Underglaze painting on pots I’ve been making since 2022…

 

My goal is to do a small bisque firing soonish, hopefully mid-March. While I have loads of tiny pots, jewellery and other small bits to fire, I also need some pieces to test stoneware glazes on. Usually I would just pinch some quick bowls for glaze tests, but this time around I decided to make “proper” slab built cylindrical vessels for them. After all, these stoneware glazes will be going on cups; seeing them on these cup-like forms will give me a better idea of the final results. So I’ve been making cardboard templates, rolling slabs and generally remembering how to treat the process with patience. It reminded me of the time in 2019/2020 when I reacquainted myself with clay. I was rough and worked too quickly, slabs tore, forms slumped and I cried. This time there were no tears, just a slow embracing of the way my material works. Clay is so influenced by the environment you’re working in, especially when it comes to drying. In the heat you can run with your process; when it’s cold you have

to 

 

s  l  o  o o w 

 

right down. 

 

And when you can’t help things along with a heat gun or a hairdryer, it’s time for even more patience. Today, one of the “first” few days of spring in the northern hemisphere, we were embraced by some lukewarm but bright sunshine- at least in Southampton. I worked on a group of four more vessels and I was able to pop the slabs in the sun for a bit to firm up before curving the walls and joining everything together.

 

Slab built vessels in progress

 

I also have a new favourite tool:

 

I used to cut the 45° angle for the bevelled joins using a ruler and blade. It took some time and wasn’t very accurate, but it got the job done. This bevel cutter tool is a game changer for that step of the process!

_ _ _

The crocuses and daffodils and snowdrops are zingy flashes against the grey remains of winter, tiny symbols of rooted hope exclaiming “Yes! We’ve made it again! You’ve made it again, through another winter!”

Since moving to Southampton in December last year I’ve watched how our landscape has been transforming over the last three months, during my almost-daily walks with our dog Dakota- almost-daily, because she is not a fan of walking in the rain and neither am I. We’ve gone from ice, snow and grey to mud, a bit of sunshine and pops of colour. 

 

Crocuses in the park

 

These little snaps of yellow, white and amethyst remind me of this particular line in the Chromaphobia episode of the podcast Articles of Interest, by Avery Trufelman:

 

Colour is not at odds with nature.

 

Trufelman speaks with a number of different experts about the history of garment dyeing, what colour means as we wear it in our daily lives, and how the trend of wearing colourful garments within the upper echelons of society faded into neutrals and black as brightly dyed clothing became more accessible to the working classes; it’s all incredibly fascinating.

 

This article, They’re Stealing Colour from Your World, from David Speed at Creative Rebels, dovetails with that Chromophobia episode:

 

Neutral colours don’t evoke any strong feelings, they’re… well… neutral. It’s easier to sell something that’s just *okay*, something neutral.

 

Trufelman and Speed brought me back to thinking about colour in my ceramics.The last iteration of my work, when I “officially launched” my online store with cups and other functional items, centralised saggar firing as the surface treatment. Rather than using a glaze and firing in a kiln (electric or otherwise), I wrapped my work up with organic materials and fired it in a small wood fire in a barrel. The organic materials leave behind unexpected markings, sometimes bold, sometimes delicate, but usually in shades of grey to black. Don’t get me wrong, these neutrals definitely evoke strong feelings, and any sort of pit firing, barrel firing, smoke firing is my first true love. But I find myself wanting to explore further, and experiment with combining these smoky surfaces with bright, bold colours.

 

Left: Saggar fired trinket trays | Right: Ancient Joy, playing with colour & texture

 

I started playing with this layering of colour and smoke in 2021 with a series I call Ancient Joy. With these pieces I also try to weave together threads of archaeology and trash, metamorphosis, evolution, the natural and the manufactured, and survival through joy and play (toys!). 

I realise now that the first photo in this post, of the tiny pots with underglaze, possibly makes it seem that my work has always been really colourful! In truth this is still the early days of exploring beyond the smokiness, as I’ve been in a bit of an intermission the last few years. I’m back at the palette now, though, and letting myself play. Some days I miss where I was and what I was making before the hiatus, and want to get back to that. But the reality is, there is no going back. There is only going forward. Through all of the luscious joy and anxiety and lessons.

I had a little epiphany last week… I just need to approach each step like I am back at the start as an amateur. A lover. Nothing to prove, just with love in my heart for the craft, the process, the medium, the people.

This really is starting from scratch. The blessing is, I get to reinvent it all.

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I’ve driven past this abandoned monitor for months now. A few weeks ago we had quite a bit of rain, and nature collaborated with tech to create this: 

 

Hey! Thanks for reading and supporting, and joining me as I get back into the creative life 😊

Much gratitude,

Jess x