|pots and slip ready for this weeks painting and glazing|
Tomorrow begins the clumsy transition between the wetness and sloppiness of shaping pots at the Shimpo to the dressing up with patterns of carefully painted wax resist brushwork. Pottery making is full of paradoxes and the dance between the impermanence of damp clay and the rock hardness of the fired pot usually has me standing with my back to the wall, waiting for the right song to inspire me to the dancefloor. Always a little shy and wallflowerish, I'm reluctant to let go of my slippery spinning world of forming for the whirling of the brush mark on the lovely beautiful pink bisque. I wonder why?
Bisqueware stands somewhere between its ceramic puberty and its vitrified adulthood, always a little awkward, uncomfortable in this transitive state. Impatient as a not-yet-old-enough teenager to drive.