To Anne

This summer, a friend and mentor of mine, Anne Armstrong, passed away rather suddenly. It was shocking and a reminder to live my life as best I can every single day 'cause you just never know...

 When I moved home after art school to set up my own pottery studio, I wandered into Anne's shop and basically begged her for a job. She laughed in my face and said she didn't need any help. At that moment, her husband wandered in and laughed in her face. She smiled and offered me a one-day-a-week part time job. Before the end of my first day, it became 2 days a week.

Working with Anne was incredible. She taught me all sorts of things that school neglected to (like all the businessey stuff art schools steer clear of). I would watch her throw pots as I mopped the floor, or sieved her glazes, or load her kiln. I watched her wield a brush like a master and decorate simple, functional forms in fluid,  confident strokes. I learned tips and tricks that only decades of experience can teach.

Anne helped me get the footing I needed to get my own business off the ground. She was incredibly supportive and was always there to answer questions, offer advice, and crack a joke. She made a mark on me and my work, and I can't even begin to describe the influence she has had on me.

This past Saturday, I spent the day helping her family have a farewell sale, selling off studio furnishing, tools, supplies and of course, her pottery.

Anne was in business for over 40 years. She traveled a lot to craft shows, taught workshops, had work in galleries and published in books. She had an incredible and loyal group of customers fans. And to see them out in force on Saturday was incredibly humbling and awe inspiring. I was struck with joy and grief at all of the people who wanted just one more piece of Anne to bring light into their homes.

I will do you proud, my friend, and wouldn't be where I am without you. Thank you for everything.

Shifting Sands

This year marks my tenth anniversary as a full time potter. It also marks a shift in the direction my business is headed.

When I first dipped my toes in the full-time-potter world, I tried to get my work out locally. While everyone loved it, very few bought and it became apparent that if I was to make a living, I had to either make new work for the local crowd, or send my work out into the world through markets that were a better fit. So off to the city I went, where my post sold well enough to keep me going and pay my bills.

I am now at a point where I have come full circle and would rather engage my local crowd than haul a truckload of tables, pots and tents all over hell's half acre. And I seem to be figuring it out, slowly but surely.

And not without a lot of help either. 
I now have a fabulous shop that I share with my mom, who makes incredible hand-crafted body and home care products out of lavender that we grow and harvest right on our own farm. I have a potters wheel out near the shop so I can interact with customers while throwing, and give people a chance to see what this pottery thing is all about.

 There was a time when I never imagined I would be cranking out orders of 400 mugs at a time. And there was also a time I never imagined that I would enjoy throwing for small audiences, talking about what I'm doing as I'm doing it and yet that is exactly where I find myself.

 

Over this past year I have made some incredible partnerships with several local businesses, Like this amazing place, or this amazing place. I have figured out how to make my business fit in the local scene and I am excited to see where things take me.



There's only one thing in this world that can be truly counted on, and that's change. I am enjoying my current transitions, and looking forward to what lies ahead.

10 Years

This winter will mark my tenth year as a full time potter.

And that's kinda a big deal to me. Over the years I have watched friends and acquaintances struggle or thrive in their own craft business. I have seen incredibly talented people throw in the towel, or be pushed out of the market. I have seen people give their own blood sweat and tears only to have their lives give way to family, financial pressures and the general reality of everyday life. And yet here I am. Still swimming.

Swimming, swimming, just keep swimming.

I would not be where I am without the love and support I receive from the people around me. I would not be here, marking this anniversary, were it not for my parents. Or my husband. Or my friends. All of whom have been there for me, as a shoulder to cry on, a board to bounce ideas off of, the muscle in the background keeping the cogs greased, and the people who put up with my obsession/passion/need for pottery.

And while those closest to me have been invaluable in my journey, the picture needs to be much, much larger.

This year has marked a shift in my approach to my business. I have reached out and am making all kinds of amazing partnerships with other business all across my community...

With a local botanical garden for commemorative pieces celebrating all they do within the community...

With local chefs and restaurants for a month long culinary lavender festival...

 
With a local cakery for stands and plates...

The work is all about community. All about helping and being helped. About reaching out and offering support to ensure my community is successful. It's about karma. About putting good out into the world. About being a part of a larger whole.

While I want to be successful in what I do, I can't do that alone. I haven't done that alone. And I AM a part of a vibrant, dynamic and successful community. Local community. I want the people around me to be able to thrive in their dreams. If my own little small business can in some way help raise the profile of other businesses in my community, then I'm in. If we can find ways to promote each other, spread awareness, and strengthen our little corner of the world, we all benefit. Especially when so many others within that community share the same values - offering unique, quality products or services that focus on fostering a healthy, vibrant community - that bring people together.

I can't even believe this year is happening. I can't believe that I have found myself a part of this larger whole. The ideas haven't stopped since the new year began. And everywhere I turn, there's opportunities to be had or shared, and community that's growing. And to it all, I have to say,

Bring it...

An Anxious Introvert in the Workplace

I am an introvert. I also have social anxiety issues. Which may come as a surprise to any of you who have met me at craft shows or classes or exhibitions. Then again, maybe not.

 I have survival techniques that I use to get me through social situations.  At craft fairs, you may notice that my booth is set up in such as way that I can stand behind my display. This is really important for my energy levels. It gives me guaranteed personal space within a crowd. It kind of acts like a buffer zone, from behind which, I am an expert on what's around me (my pots), and I can stay focused on the pots, thus distracting me from the throngs of people coming and going all around me. And while this, in combination with some prescription help, allows me survive a show, I'm still completely drained by the end of it. Doesn't matter how short the show is, I will be completely wiped by the end. To the point of just needing to sit in my living room, stare out my window at my bird feeders and just breathe. It's all I can do to have a conversation with my husband, I just don't have the energy left. I need solitude and peace and quiet to recharge. I can usually get my mojo back within a day or two, unless it's a giant show like the NY NOW show (5 days) or (shudder) the One of a Kind Show (11 grueling days). For these types of shows, I can easily spend a day crying after it's all over. (I don't know. Pure exhaustion I guess) But it can take up to a week before I have enough energy to get back into the swing of things.

I've been thinking about this lately because of the recent spring sale for the Potter's Guild of Hamilton and Region, where I was the featured artist. I had two tables (instead of the usual one) front and center and there was some expectation that I was to be by my tables because undoubtedly people would want to meet me and talk to me.  Now the only problem with this is that I had no table to stand behind. I was right beside my work, in the middle of the crowds, totally unprotected personal space. And it kicked my ass. My anxiety came on hard, and for anyone who suffers, you can completely relate: nausea, trouble breathing, fast heart-rate, light-headedness, all the while smiling and answering questions and trying to hang on for dear life until I could leave. I couldn't stay for the whole show. I made it through half of the first day, one third of the second day, and the whole last day (which was really only a half day).

I'm proud of myself for managing what I did, and I had an absolutely amazing show! But I was completely wiped. And since the show ran Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and I had exactly 4 days to frantically get ready for yet another show the following weekend, I had no time off for recovery time. I had to drag myself outta bed, force my way into the studio and keep on going. I hate doing this. I can see the results in the quality of my work and all I can think about is needing to take a break.

I guess this is where burn out can become a serious issue.

I've been trying to do all the things you are supposed to do. I do yoga about 5 times a week and I can't recommend it highly enough. I meditate - though I've been slacking off a bit lately. I go for walks around my parent's farm as often as the weather allows, but sometimes that just doesn't cut it. I would love to hear how other introverts manage the stress of craft shows, or how other people cope with social anxiety in situations where you have no choice but to be outside of your comfort zone. And of course on the burn out topic - how do I nip this sucker in the bud? I'm pretty sure there's no easy answer. 

Spotlights and the Un-Comfortable

So I've been having some fun trying lots of new stuff and whatnot. Playin' around. My latest exploration with intaglio glazing led to this little gem which I decided to submit to the Hamilton Potters' Guild's biennial juried exhibition "Glazed Over".

 It was kind of a 'just fucking do it' decision. I don't normally do this sort of thing - it's a little outside of my comfort zone. I dropped my piece off and hoped to forget about it. I even bailed on the jurors comments and had asked someone to pick up my piece should it not be accepted into the show.

Two days later I got a phone message.
"Please attend the opening, your piece has won an award".

My first reaction was an uncomfortable laugh. Followed by confusion, and then sheer panic. This meant I was going to have to get up in front of people. No easy task when one deals with anxiety issues. As my anxiety welled, I tried to figure out what was going on. I won an award! I should be thrilled! And yet I was anxious. Did I even LIKE the piece I submitted? I've been playing and trying new things, but was this piece MINE? Was that MY voice emanating from that plate? Then my thoughts swung to my Bachelor of Arts Degree. I have always been uncomfortable with the institution that my degree was granted from. It has a reputation. And really, given my background, its a wonder I was even accepted into the school in the first place. The entire time I was there, I dealt with feeling like a fraud. I had never taken a high school art class. No workshops outside of school. Nothing. And yet there I was attending one of the most prestigious art schools in the country. No pressure. Ugh.

My husband and I made arrangements to go to the opening. My parents decided to come along, and take us out to dinner beforehand to celebrate. The show itself is wonderful - all kinds of amazing works. And there was my plate (displayed sideways, but hey, what can you do). With my anxiety welling, I hunkered down until award time. And there it was. The Ontario Crafts Council Design Award. In a fog with my heart in my throat I made my way to the front. OK. Smile. Shake hand. Take award. Smile. Race back to the safety of the corner. Ugh. By this time the gallery was packed. Mom took my picture by my plate and I was outta there. Fresh air. Breathe......

A Design award. One of my profs voices kept ringing in my head: "You shouldn't make work. You should just design it." I should have been thrilled but I couldn't shake the uncomfortable knot in my belly.

It's been a few days and I've had a chance to digest everything that has just happened. I tried something new. It was well received. I won a design award! The work that I want to make definitely leans towards design. The kind of work that I am most drawn to leans more towards design. And honestly, I just want to make pretty pots. I want to make pots that people want to use. Every day.

I've been playing. Pushing my work forward. And I won a fucking award, y'all!!! That's pretty fucking cool:)

Falling in Love With Play

I've been testing and trying new things here and there, and mostly feeling untethered. I felt like I desperately needed to do something, ANYTHING, new to help me stay on the right side of sanity.

Much of what I have been doing hasn't amounted to much. Annoying wastes of raw ingredients, frustration, disappointment, a bunch of "meh" until it reached a point where I didn't even care if something worked or not. I gave up on expectations, threw in a bunch of "sure, what the fuck, why not?" kinda tests, and took some time to sit down with what I had been doing to see what I could glean from it all.

Here's where it took me:

I have been interested in decorating my work with flowers for quite some time and decided to draw those flowers in glaze. But I didn't want to leave the background on the pot unglazed, as this would stain over time. So I applied a layer of matte white where I wanted my design to be.

 Applying a red glaze directly over the matte white would result in a fuzzy and washed out line, so I carved a peony design right into the glaze with pencil. Next I filled in the pencil lines with red glaze using a slip trailer, applied a wax resist and glazed the rest of the piece.

 I was actually impressed with the results! There's room for improvement, and a very definite path to follow.

While I was at it with the peonies, I decided to try some diagrams of particle collisions. My inner nerd loves this stuff so I used the technique described for the bowl to carve out the following diagram, only this time instead of doing the carving with a sharp pencil, I used a stylus for mishima that my husband made me that has a very fine point. Behold!:

A much crisper line was the result. Unfortunately I dipped the whole mug in my slate glaze before I realized what I was doing. Ultimately I would like the top portion to be glazed in the orchid glaze, but a test is a test, and I'm still thrilled with the results.

The next step is to fine tune the pieces and give it another go. And needless to say I actually look forward to opening my kiln after my next firing in the next few days:)

It's 2014!!! How did that happen?!?

I remember that it was August....
Then I blinked and it was October....

And now it's halfway through February in a new year.
Funny how the experience of time is so subjective.

2013 was an amazing year for me. I was incredibly busy with wholesale orders, shows, custom orders and a new brick and mortar shop that I share with my amazing mother who grows lavender, processes her own oils, makes soaps, lotions and all kinds of amazing lavender products.

Then 2014 happened.

So far the year has been off to a rough start. I was struggling through trying to make some new work and get it ready in time for the NY NOW show ( a wholesale trade show in New York). While I found myself headed in an interesting direction, there was just no way that the work would be resolved by the time the show came up. Which turned out to be fine anyways since the show was a bit of a dud. First it was Superbowl weekend, which I was well aware of and just assumed it would be slow until after the celebrations ended. Then there was a dumping of 8" of snow in New York, with airports closed and flights cancelled. Then it rained on top of all that snow. Then there was an ice storm.

So yeah. The show wasn't all that great. Which can be a little frustrating but what 'cha gonna do?

At present, my spring schedule isn't all that crazy. (I seem to recall asking the universe for a much needed chance to slow down...)

 BUT... as I'm coming to grips with my present situation, I can see that this is the PERFECT opportunity to continue working on that new line.

And that's the hard part.

It's always so tough to try to narrow down which direction you want to take your work. Right now I'm struggling with the idea of decoration. I feel split in two directions. Part of me likes the idea of keeping things simple and minimal, while another side of me wants to go all crazy with line work. All I can do is try, try, try and see where I end up. I know that it's not unusual for me to take hard rights and completely veer off of my path at any given time in my creative process. And I also know that it's hard for me to just let go of ideas, and see where my process takes me.

So here we go...
I'm off and running and have some tests cooling in the kiln.
Purples, blues, reds and blacks oh my!

This is what happens when you're stressed....

So my summer has been a little stressful to say the least. I've been busy with orders and throw in a personal crisis and the scale tips my life into chaos.
Recently I was bombarded with three orders for dinnerware and told that said orders were due in one week.

Ha!

I don't think so.

When things are crazy busy, it takes me 6 to 8 weeks to get orders out the door. So when I asked why it was I hadn't been informed about the orders earlier, I was told that the emails I was supposed to get daily for 7 weeks telling me the orders were waiting for me, weren't being sent.

Lovely.

So I promised to get these orders out the door within 4 weeks and everyone was happy.

Except me, apparently.

In my rush to get things produced and out, I misread the actual orders. Where there was one place setting, I assumed it was for a set of four. And that's exactly what I made...four times as many place settings for each order.
And that's what each customer received.
Yup.
That's how awesome my summer has been.
So while I'm suffering through day 7 of a particularly stubborn headache that JUST. WONT. GO. AWAY., I'm also suffering through the humiliation of having to explain how it was I managed to fuck up so bad.
What can I say?
I'm human. And under a lot of stress.

People keep saying to me that being so busy is a good problem to have but I beg to differ. I am painfully aware that one can kill their business by being TOO busy, just as easily as you can kill a business by being not busy enough. And stuff like this, is exactly how one does that.

So clearly I need some extended time off. And a bottle of wine. And since I don't have time for the holiday, the wine will just have to do. Maybe I'll throw in some tequila for good measure.

"You Need to Take Care of Yourself"....Ummmmm..... What????

I've been hearing this a lot lately: "You need to take care of yourself."

Ummmm....sure.

AND HOW THE FUCK DO I DO THAT?!?

Things have been crazy busy this year. And it just hasn't stopped. Orders started rolling in the end of January, after my show at the Buyer's Market in Philly, and they just haven't stopped. Usually things slow down (read: hit the breaks) at the beginning of June. Not this year. Things kept rolling, full steam ahead. Orders kept coming in, pots kept going out. It's been amazing actually. And somewhat stressful. But I've been managing, thanks to the help of amazing family and friends. And the whole time I've managed to take at least ONE day off a week (more or less). I stopped working nights, and have made an effort to do what normal, non-stressed, regular people do, by making sure I take time to get out and visit friends and take in a change of scenery once in a while. And let me assure you, this does NOT come naturally to an introvert such as myself!

And yet, a recent crisis threw everything through a loop. (And no, I won't be going into details), but my fragility became very apparent. I can't do it all. I can't get everything done on time, done right, trouble-free.

I am human. I can only do so much. When the shit hits the fan, I can't work miracles. So people keep saying "you have to take care of yourself!". And yet, I have no idea what that means. I make time for myself, I try to be realistic in my expectations, I recognize when I'm stressed and need a break, I have the ability to say "no" to projects that I know will only hurt me more than help me.

So what does that mean? How, exactly, does one 'take care' of oneself? When the people I love need me, I'm sure as shit gonna drop everything and do everything I can to make things better. And fuck everything else.

No really.

The pots can wait.
The orders can wait.
The bills can wait.

What's important to me are the people I love and they will always, ALWAYS, come first. No. Matter. What.

I feel very fortunate to have the amazing customers that I have. I have made an effort to communicate with everyone who is currently waiting for things from me, to explain in simple, honest terms, what is going on, and when they can realistically expect their orders. And every. single. one. of them has completely understood, and given me the space I need to make sure they get the best pots I can make, in the most realistic time frame I can muster, while still managing to keep my wits about me.

I am grateful that there are caring, and compassionate people in this world. I am grateful that my customers are caring and compassionate people. I am grateful for those that I love, and those that love me back.

I LOVE what I do, and I try to do my best every day, to make others happy, to meet the expectations of others, to make sure everyone who does business with me is getting to best I can muster.

Unfortunately, that's not always possible.
And for those times that its not, I'm deeply grateful for those who understand that I am only human, and can only do so much.

So for those of you affording me space right now, you are amazing, and your compassion is deeply humbling.

May karma be kind to you.
~Melissa

"Fun" With Those F*%&ing Stains

So several years ago while I was developing my "Slate" glaze, I was playing around with some other colours for my matte glaze as well. At the time, I tried a commercial stain called "Blackberry Wine" in my base glaze. I thought it was lovely but not quite what I was looking for at the time.
 

I added a bit of another stain called "Pansy Purple" to push the colour away from burgundy and more towards a dark wine colour. While the colour was exceptional, I lost all of my matte-ness, and shiny was definitely not the look I was after. (The photo doesn't really do the colour any justice, but here it is:)

 As usual, life got in the way and the colour tests got pushed to the back burner. The test tiles went into my huge box with 11 years worth of other test tiles and there it sat collecting dust until recently.

I am still interested in an eggplant coloured matte glaze for my Classic Collection and decided recently to revisit my Blackberry Wine stain. I mixed up a quick sample, based on that very first test as a starting point and was all excited.

Until I opened my kiln.

The colour had all but drained from my glaze and I was left with this rather anemic looking ugly gray. Certainly NOT what I was after.

Now let me explain a wee bit for those not so technically knowledgeable regarding the finer points of glaze chemistry: the stain that I am using to get the original colour uses chrome and tin. These are fickle fiends and require very specific glaze chemistry to pull off their colour magic - no zinc, fire under 1260'C, no magnesium in the glaze and lots of calcium. Check, check, check, and check for the matte glaze that I am currently using.

So what the fuck happened to my colour?!?

An excellent question and one which I have no answer to.

At first I thought maybe I could juggle the calcium in the glaze a bit - perhaps there was TOO MUCH so I bumped it down to the optimal range.

As you can see, the colour got even worse. At least the last time I was getting some speckles of wine colour. This time, nothing but an ugly, flat field of gray.

So I thought I could try adding some other stains to help boost the colour, like that Pansy Purple I tried before:

Or a Deep Crimson:

Better. But not the colour I'm after.

I even tried the Pansy again in a greater concentration:

While it's sorta lovely, there's still too much speckle there for my tastes and the amount of stain required to get this is horrendously high (16%).

So where does that leave me?
I have no flippin' idea.

I am currently at a loss as to why this particular glaze is behaving the way it is, and why it's changing SO FREAKING MUCH from test to test. I'm wondering if there's just too much kaolin in the glaze for the stains to truly come out? Except that I have a stone matte glaze with 5% Blackberry Wine in it and the colour shows up just fine. Or maybe there has been some sort of change to the ingredients that are in the base glaze that I am unaware of? Something coming from a new mine, with slightly different composition? After all, it makes no sense that a glaze that worked fine not three years ago is a complete disaster now. If anyone has any thoughts on this, feel free to post comments. I'm always open to insights.

In the mean time, I'll continue trying to get the colour I'm after. I'm presently trying a new base glaze so we'll see. These things never go as planned, and always seem to take waaaaaaay longer than I'd like. But so it is (sigh).

NYIGF vs. BMAC: Comparing the Shows

Feltware Cups.  Photo copyright Blackbird Photography

Last year, I tried the New York International Gift Fair in January and again in August. This year, I decided to try the Buyer's Market of American Craft. My reasons were twofold: most of my buyers from the NYIGF also went to the BMAC, and the BMAC is significantly cheaper. So how do the shows compare? Here's my thoughts:

- BMAC is less expensive. Significantly. my booth in NY was $4000. in Philly, $2250. But I did notice that the costs for everything else was comparable. Electrical fees in Philly were higher, and I got slammed with a "material handling fee" of  $350 for choosing someone other than the official show carrier to deliver my crate to the show. That sucked. I also had to have floor covering in my booth which was unnecessary in NY. This wasn't something that I had in my crate, which had been stored in New Jersey since the August NYIGF, and I didn't feel like dragging a carpet across the border with me so I had to rent one for the show. It was way overpriced and they didn't even install it properly so buyers were tripping in my booth.

- BMAC is ONLY handmade. Which is awesome. This means the buyers that show up know all about handmade, know that it's pricier, know that we can't crank out 10000 widgets in 4 days. I didn't have to deal with complaints about pricing which is a huge bonus. It gets tiresome defending my right to make a living wage.

- NYIGF is MUCH larger, because there's so much more at the show. There's suppliers and products and designers from all over the world. The show is MASSIVE. which means there's more buyers there. But that's not to say they are all there for the handmade. The handmade section is actually much smaller than what's available at the BMAC.

- I didn't see as many of the big buyers at the BMAC. If you're goal is to get picked up by Anthropologie or somewhere like that, your chances would probably be better at NYIGF. And I didn't see as much of the media in Philly that I saw in NY. There was no House and Home, no Martha Stewart Living, no Country Living. So if you're looking to hook up with media, NY would be a better option. And none if this is to say that these people weren't at BMAC, but I didn't see them, so maybe they just didn't stop by my booth (which is entirely possible).

- Both shows are very well organized and staff communicate regularly and easily with vendors. I had no problems with set up or tear down, or getting questions answered before, during or after either show. Now I have my entire booth packed into a 3x3x5' crate which gets delivered right to my booth, becomes part of my display and gets picked up there after the show, so I don't have to deal with move-in, move-out or waiting for my crate to be delivered to me at the end of the show.

So down to the nitty gritty, how did the shows compare?

- I picked up as many buyers in Philadelphia as I did at BOTH NY shows, as well as re-orders from buyers I met in NY. BUT, the orders were smaller.

- I had a lot more follow up to deal with after NY, buyers who left their cards but weren't interested in placing orders at the show. This tripled my sales from what I wrote on the show floor and I got orders as a direct result of the NY show right into January of this year.

So what are my plans moving forward?

- I haven't decided if I will do NYIGF in August again or not. I guess I need to get on that and make a decision.

- originally I was hoping to do both the BMAC AND the NYIGF next winter but I heard some nasty rumors about the superbowl being in NY the same weekend as the gift fair. This does not bode well for hotel rooms and I have a hard time believing buyers will come to the show when hotel room prices are hugely inflated. I'll look into this further so see what's going on, but if it is the case, count me out.

- I'll definitely be back to BMAC. It was a great show: more affordable, fun to do, wonderful buyers, amazing vendors. BUT, due to the auto show booking the convention center the same weekend that the buyer's market is usually there, they had to move the show dates for next year. Waaaaaaaay up - to mid January, which is early for buyers. It means weather is more unpredictable, it's the same weekend as another wholesale show (Orlando) and the week before NY. We'll see how this plays out. It's entirely possible that it will have a negative effect on the BMAC next year but only time will tell.

So if you've been thinking about either show, there's my 2 cents. I had two bodies of work with me at the show, my Classic Collection, and my Feltware line. So have a peek and see how it may compare to what you'd like to take to the show. If you were at either show, feel free to share your thoughts!

The Long and Short of It All: I'm Terrified

Tea Set - Classic Collection. Photograph by Blackbird Photography

Tomorrow I leave for Philadelphia for the Buyer's Market of American Craft.
This is a wholesale trade show where retailers and gallery owners come and have a look at my work and (hopefully) place orders for their shops. I have been doing this type of trade show since 2006. This will be my first time in Philly.

Despite the fact that I've done this for years, despite the fact that I'm very comfortable talking to retailers about my work, despite the fact that I literally know my work inside and out, despite the fact that I know how these things go and should have nothing to worry about...

 I'm terrified.

Each show is the same, actually. Whether it's a wholesale trade show, or a retail craft show, the terror is the same. It sets in sometimes up to a week before the actual event. All rational thought seems to be jettisoned, and I become overwhelmed with anxiety; trouble breathing, panic, upset stomach, short nerves, trouble sleeping...

And it's all silly, when it comes right down to it. And ultimately I KNOW that. But that doesn't stop the deluge of evil thoughts: will people like my work? will I make any sales? will I be invisible at the show? will some catastrophic event blow the whole thing to smitherines? Will the global economy crumble the night before the show opens? What if none of my previous buyers come back to re-order? What if customers come and storm my booth to scream at me and tell me how much they hated my work and wished they never bought any?

See? Silly.

But I suspect I'm not alone in all this pre-show inner torment. And I wonder if all these negative thoughts are something that plague other artists as well.

Feltware Cups, photograph by Blackbird Photography

We embark on our 8 hour drive tomorrow morning, bright and early. When I get to the show, my crate with all my stuff will be sitting patiently in my booth, ready for me to unload. I'll set up my little space, retreat to the comfort of the hotel, endure a long, sleepless night, choke down some breakfast while trying not to gag, clean myself up, and trek down to stand in my allotted 100sq feet and wait. And the people will come. I'll chat up retailers and gallery owners, talk about my best sellers, share some laughs, meet some amazing people, and more likely than not write at least SOME orders. Repeat this for three whole days, pack up my stuff, and trek home again. And then I'll sit in the quiet solitude of my living room, surrounded by my cats, and cry. Even if I have a completely kick-ass, knock-my-socks-off, amazingly awesome show, I'll cry. It's a release of all the tension that I endure to get me to the show and through the show. It's the result of being an introvert, a deeply private person who has just displayed my heart and soul to be judged, mocked and loved by complete strangers. It's nothing bad at all. It's just the accumulation of emotion that needs to be cleansed.

And then I'll be back in my studio, making pots, sitting at my wheel where I'm happiest, and life will continue. Just like that.

So am I crazy? Probably.
Am I alone in all this? Probably not:)

Bracing Myself for What's Ahead

Well here it is. Day one of a new year.

I was hoping that this year, I would work less. Take some actual days off.... have a week that ends.... that sort of thing.

And yet here it is, January 1, 2013 and I'm in the studio working.

2012 was good to me. New York was good to me. I'm pleased I took some of the risks I did last year and I'm really feeling like I have turned a corner, and that momentum is starting to build upon itself, instead of me forcing it forward.

A giant order of mugs kept me busy for several months, and I also added an amazing wholesale client who reorders every 5 weeks. I make little dipping dishes and cruets for a specialty olive oil shop which has proven to be very lucrative for me. It's getting my work out there, which has all been decorated with a wee little stamp that says "the Raging Bowl". (I worked on "Branding" in 2012 and can honestly say I'm happy with the results!)

I have lots of new adventures planned for 2013. This February I'm heading to Philly for the Buyer's Market, another wholesale show. I'm hoping this one will be a better fit than the New York Gift Fair. While that show was good to me, I never really felt like my work fit in there. We shall see what Philly brings. And while I'm nervous about losing any momentum I may have started at the NY show, I'm throwing my all behind the Buyer's Market. I bought my first ad - in the guide that the show gives out to everyone that comes, and I also found out I'm going to be featured in the same guide. I have put together a mailing list of potential clients so that I can send out promotional material before the show. I've actually been doing homework! (I made a conscious decision to spend some time on marketing in 2013. We'll see if my efforts pay off.)

I've also go lots of new work coming down the pipes! I'm looking forward to learning some very new and different skills as well as building on and evolving my Arabesque collection and playing with new colors to add to my Classic collection.

Now I just have to work less.
Which probably also means working more efficiently.
So what do you say, 2013? Gonna help a gal out?

What are your plans for 2013? Taking some new risks? Heading on new adventures? Let's hear all about it!

Meditating on Mugs

For the last few weeks I have been plugging away at the largest wholesale order I have had to date.

400 mugs.

While I was excited to GET this order, I was kind of dreading MAKING this order. That's a LOT of freaking mugs. Some potters don't even MAKE mugs. Truth be told, they're a bit of a pain in the ass. They are fussy. And time consuming. And it's hard to get what they are worth when selling them.

When asked up front if I could make that many if I were to get an order for them, I made sure to think long and hard about what I was potentially getting into. Prior to this, my largest wholesale order had been for 100 teapots. That was a complete nightmare. Everything about that order was difficult and I was not eager to go there again. EVER. But having had that experience under my belt, I was better able to work out what would be involved in making so many mugs. I have plenty of time to work on the order, and I'm getting a very fair price for them. Really my only concern boiled down to all that repetitive throwing.

When I first started potting full time, the most I could make of one thing at a time was 8 pieces. Anything after that and my attention span was shot. Without being able to focus on what I was doing, the quality of the pieces would very quickly deteriorate, and along with it, my mood. Fast forward 7 years to the beginning of this year, and I was able to do anywhere from 12 to 18 pieces of the same thing before the inevitable boredom came crashing in.

Really, the best thing about production work is  being able to chart your progress. So far, I have 360 mugs thrown. And I have really seen a change in my ability not only to make them, but to focus as I go. I can now throw 48 mugs in a row, and the 48th mug looks pretty much like the first mug. I have found that within the first dozen, I slip into a bit of a meditation. Time seems to become irrelevant and everything around me is gone. It's just me and my wheel, and a small spinning lump of clay. My hands seem to have figured out what they're doing and I can almost remove myself from the process and let them do what they need to do. It's much the same sensation one gets when running. You reach a certain point where everything flashing around your brain is just gone. A point where you're not thinking, you're not worrying about the banalities of daily life, you're not stewing over what happened yesterday, you're not thinking ahead to tomorrow, you're just here. Now. In the moment, in every moment. It's incredibly liberating. It's incredibly refreshing.

In all honesty, I am really enjoying this order. I thought for sure I'd be having nightmares about mug after mug after mug, but they haven't (yet) made their way into my sleep. We'll see what happens after I start all that packing!

How about you? How's your endurance for production? Is there something that becomes a meditation within your own studio? Tips or tricks you'd like to share, feel free!

Seeing Red

My husband has been bitten with the glaze chemistry bug! Which is exciting because this means I have someone to get nerdy with in the glaze kitchen;)

We've been working together to create some electric fired, cone six, copper reds and are getting great results.

This is something we have both been toying with off and on (but mostly off) for the past 10 years. Iron reds always seemed too muddy and the copper reds in the electric kiln always seemed so elusive. We decided to try again on a whim, and it was one of those "what the hell" kind of moments in the glaze kitchen that led to the first results:

 

While this one came out mostly greenish (as one would expect from copper) we started getting some purples on the top, and where the three test glazes pooled in the center there was some shocking red.

 

The second test piece from that first firing, while turquoise on one side, the other side was definitely leaning towards red.  I honestly didn't think we'd get ANY interesting results out of our first coordinated attempt hunting copper red in an electric kiln so to say I was surprised is perhaps an understatement.

So next came how to smooth out that red colour from our second test piece. We needed to get rid of the blotches and push the red more to real red, and less pink. Here's what came out of the next firing:

The red COMPLETELY disappeared in the glaze test on the right, and the one on the top left went matte and was an interesting shade of dark wine. The bottom left was definitely getting closer. This gave us an idea of the direction we needed to focus in on. So...

Onwards and upwards! Here's the next batch of tests: 

 There's three different base glazes on this test piece. While they all came out red-ish, we decided to narrow our search down to one glaze recipe. We picked the red-est glaze and continued to play. At this point, we had narrowed down our testing to four different things within our glaze formula that seemed to be affecting our red. Here's what came out next:

Now I realize the images may be very difficult to discern on a computer screen, but I can assure you we were pleased with where things are headed. Here's some close ups of where we will focus our fine tuning even more:

The nerd in me loves this aspect of pottery! My background in science certainly comes in handy. And I'm not gonna lie, it's nice to have a partner in crime!

Wait A Minute! It's The End of March?!?

Last time I checked, it was sometime around August, or thereabouts. I can't believe it's already the end of March!

This year has started out with a bang for me. I pretty much haven't had any time off since I started getting ready for my Christmas shows. After losing my wholesale show in Toronto, I decided to throw myself into the deep end and applied to show at the New York International Gift Fair the end of January. This meant spending my "holidays" getting samples together, and figuring out a booth configuration that would pack into a 3'x3'x5' crate. I was a complete disaster leading up to the show, and thanks to my doctor and some pharmaceuticals, I managed to hold it together for the five days of the show.

What an incredible experience!

The New York show made Toronto feel like kindergarten. I had definitely graduated to the big kids sand box, exhibiting at a show where companies like Umbra and the official merchandise for the Beatles had booths. There's about three thousand exhibitors at this show, and I was in a section dedicated to handmade. There was a LOT of incredibly stunning work there. I made some incredible contacts, and got some orders. Maybe not as many as I would have liked, but given that it was my first time showing, I consider myself fortunate to have come away in the black.
 

Orders for my Feltware have already started rolling out - two made it safely to California, and last week I sent out boxes to Vermont and Wisconsin! But by far, the coolest order I got at the show was for a boutique in Tokyo. Given the stunning porcelain that comes from that side of the world, it's incredibly flattering and humbling to have my work represented there.

It will be a few weeks yet before I get any "me" time, and I'm already planning my next trip to New York for their August show. Until then, I'll keep making, packing and sending my Feltware to some pretty cool shops in places I've never heard of before!

Reflections on the Year

Back from a grueling three weeks straight of craft shows, and on the mend from the inevitable sinus woes that resulted, it's time to look back on the year, figure out what went wrong, what went right, and where I'm headed from here.

Hanging out with Oscar Peterson in front of the National Arts Center in Ottawa

This past year has been an absolute roller coaster. I can't even begin to stress that enough. The loss of my wholesale show threw a wrench in the gears from go and I underestimated what kind of a toll that would take on my business. Without knowing what kind of money would be coming in early in the year, I was reluctant to spend what I had on supplies in case I needed it to pay the bills come spring. While the bills all got paid, pots did not get made, and this left me scrambling come early summer, when a flurry of orders came in at exactly the same time I needed to make stock for shows. Thankfully I had the guts to hire help when things got too crazy and I managed to get everything done and out in time, but I spent the rest of the year behind the eight ball, so to speak.

Just as quickly as the flurry arrived, it left and the next thing I knew things came grinding to a halt again. I had several large orders to work on, but shows weren't bringing in much money in the mean time. Once the end of September came swooping in things got out of control again very quickly. In getting ready for two large craft shows back to back for the holiday season, my work days quickly grew to 10 and 12 hour days, 7 days a week, for a good 6 week stretch. By the time my shows rolled around, I was already completely exhausted. And I'll just say it: it's hard to be friendly and cheery when all you want to do is crawl into bed with a good book and a bottle of wine and then stay there for days.

But ALAS! I survived and lived to tell the tale.

So what have I learned from all of this?

1. Well, for starters, MAKE POTS when it's slow! I need to do my best to stock up on what I can when I get some down time. This year I have LOTS of clay and glaze supplies so I don't need to worry about dipping into my savings in order to get work made and ready for the next round of shows and orders. While it's hard for me to think about working when I don't have specific deadlines lined up, it will save me enormous amounts of stress later on in the year if I can get ahead.

2. Since the loss of my wholesale show left such a crater in my finances, I decided to throw myself into the fire and signed up for the New York International Gift Fair. I'm utterly terrified, country girl that I am, and have NO idea what to expect. Could be boom, could be bust, could be somewhere in between. But since I need to do SOMETHING, and New York in January sounded better than Edmonton in February, I'll be heading to the big apple. When push comes to shove, I can throw myself in head first before I talk myself out of things. Sometimes it has worked out, and other times not so much, but if I don't try, then I'll never know. The one thing that every successful business owner has in common is that they have all, at some point or other, suffered failures. Where these people differ from the not-so-successful people, is that they pick themselves up, brush themselves off, and keep on ploughing ahead. So good or bad, whatever is to come, it'll be off to NY in January, where all I can do is the best I can do.

3. Hiring someone to help when things get crazy can really save your ass. I wasn't sure if this was the right move for me. I wasn't sure if it was something I could even afford to do. But in the end, my assistant paid for herself many times over. It's amazing what an extra pair of hands, one or two days a week can do to production levels. Even just having someone to do the mundane tasks of sieving glazes or reclaiming clay freed up MY time to get work made. It's far more important to bring in help when you need it, than to scale back your business because you alone can't keep up. With any luck, I'll be able to hire my assistant again in the new year when she's done her program. It's a win/win for both of us: valuable experience for her, like I was granted when I was starting out, and an extra pair of hands to help me keep things under control.

4. A variety of different income streams are CRUCIAL to the survival of a small, art/craft based business. Had it not been for etsy sales early in the year, things DEFINITELY would have been grim by spring time. And this also relates back to #2. If things get busy in one area, I can scale back in others. For example, if wholesale orders are coming in left, right and center, I can scale back the number of retail shows I do. But say the retail sales are a bust, I can work on the online aspect of my business to keep me afloat. Lots of work, but the safety nets are invaluable.


5. Stop working so damn much! This past fall took a definite toll on me. I signed up for two very large craft shows back to back. 17 days in total of being at a craft show, not including set up and tear down, with only one day "off" in between. This is bad; for my mental health, for my physical health, for my relationships, for my fur kids, for my drinking habits, pretty much everything that's important to me. I certainly won't be making that mistake again. (See #1.) Ironically, I like to tell people that my work is about slowing down, taking time to enjoy your morning coffee in a handmade mug, or cooking from scratch some awesome meal that's served up on a handmade platter. But in order to make that happen for others, I often miss those opportunities myself ... but then, that's a whole other post.

Despite the still-wobbly economy, I'm looking forward to the new year, with lots of exciting adventures and hopefully much less stress, if I can just get my shit together ;)


If you're a craftsperson, what have you learned from this past year? What has worked for you and what hasn't? Feel free to share your insights, I'd love to hear from you!


Cheers!

All Flocked Up

So my explorations in Damask have led me down several different avenues, but nothing has really stuck out as a "That's it!" kinda path. So I went back to my original inspiration, those stunning tone-on-tone and flocked Damask wallpapers.

             

I just sat and stared at them for a while. What exactly is it that I love about them? I am drawn to the use of colour in these wallpapers. Not only the subtle tone-on-tone in some that creates these stunning, quiet patterns, but the stark contrast in others that throw the patterns out in your face. I also love the variations in texture - shiny and smooth mixed with the fuzzy and soft. Which I guess kinda loops around to my feltware collection right now. And this is where it finally clicked...

 

This was my first attempt at flocking a pot. Unfortunately the images don't do the surface much justice. All of the black Damask pattern is soft and fuzzy. The piece itself came out pretty rough looking. The spacing of the pattern came out a little off, the glue did not adhere to the glazed surface well and the resist I was using did not lend itself to being wrapped around a curved surface. But I am DEFINITELY coming back to this! I am completely in love with it! There are bugs to work out of the process, but I think all the effort will pay off. For now, I wanted to work on the actual flocking process itself, and get in some practice so I headed over to a flat surface. Have a look at some tiles I did:

So much fun! (But labor intensive.) But so much fun! I definitely found what I was looking for in this sidebar I've been on and I'm excited to explore this avenue some more! Stay tuned!