Feltware 2.0

Nothing like the thrill of a contest to light a fire under my feet.

Every year the One of a Kind Christmas Show has a contest. This year the theme was teapots. Each vendor was asked to make a teapot in the medium they work in. How could I resist?

During my last year in school, I focused on sculptural teapots, so this was an opportunity to go back to my roots, so to speak. And while I was excited and up for the challenge, it was terrifying.

Even I was surprised at how much pressure I was feeling over this silly little contest! Having gone to a high-profile art institute, I felt a lot of pressure to produce a spectacular piece. This was an opportunity for me to show my peers that I was capable of more than just production pottery - (though notably, some of my customers may not view my work as 'just production pottery', I can't help but feel that sometimes my potter friends view it as such, but that's a whole other issue, and no doubt mostly in my head, anywaaaays...)

Where was I? Oh yes. Pressure. Yup. Lots of it.

One of the ways I like to work out new pieces, is to throw the idea to my subconscious and let it stew there while my conscious forgets about it. A few days/weeks/months later, it usually spits something out that surprises and delights me and I can get busy manifesting that idea. This time was no exception. I knew I wanted something in feltware and let my subconscious do the rest.

Here's what I came up with:



The teapot is fully functional. And while it may not be the spectacular piece I was hoping for, over all I'm pretty pleased with it. It didn't win any awards at the show, but I did sell it (yay!) and I even had an order for another, smaller version.

And while I was finally getting back to the feltware I had started in the spring, I also made these:



No doubt now that my biggest show of the year is over and I finally have some much needed time to myself, I'll rework these pieces. My subconscious is still spitting out ideas (I can't seem to find that off switch!) so I've got all kinds of ideas I'm anxious to work out.

And all that pressure? It was pretty weird at the show to see people's reaction to the new feltware. Those familiar with my functional work were quite surprised, and those who saw the teapot before the functional stuff were surprised as well. After a few days of digesting people's reactions, the pressure melted away and I became excited about this new creative outlet that I've been looking for.

Now, if only I can manage a balance between the work pots and the play pots...

The Continuing Misadventures of Me and My Pugmill

Well, the pugmill drama continues...

Based on the suggestion of a fellow potter who commented on one of my previous blogs, I approached a plastics company to see if they could form a sleeve to fit inside the barrel of my pugmill. Unfortunately, this particular company was unable to help us, mostly because of the curve of the barrel at the extrusion end. But the fellow suggested we try an epoxy coating like ones used in elbows of pipes that carry grains and salt, and was even kind enough to give us a batch of the epoxy to use.

I was hopeful...



The first week went well. The epoxy seemed to be staying put. There weren't any more pesky chunkies buggering up my thrown work. And then, slowly but surely, I started finding the hints of chunkies. Small ones. But definitely chunkies. I brushed it off as dried bits of clay? maybe? hopefully?...

In the mean time my show in Ottawa came and went (thanks everyone, for a great show!) and when I got back, I had about 2 weeks to finish all the work I needed to get done for the remainder of my Christmas shows. So the first day back to work... pug some clay... start throwing...

CHUNKIES!

HUGE freaking chunkies. The size of m&m's.

And then...

EPOXY!

Yup. Slices of epoxy, coming off in the clay.
Shit.

So we took apart the pug mill, cleaned it out, and here's what we found:



In some spots, the epoxy had peeled right off and was mixed into the clay. In other spots, it had let go of the aluminum and was acting like an envelope. From what we can figure, the pressure from the vacuum pulled the epoxy away from the aluminum and clay got stuffed between the epoxy coating and the pugmill barrel.

We still can't really figure out where the chunkies were coming from. They did not appear to be stuck to the epoxy. And the clay that had slipped between the epoxy and the barrel couldn't get into the mixing clay because the epoxy holding it against the metal was still in tact. And the small chunk of epoxy that DID break off, was fresh and the clay didn't have time to react yet.

Soooooo.....

Luckily, the rest of the epoxy peeled off like cheap nail polish but we're back to square one again.

So, either I give Peter Pugger a call (I'm sure they'll be ecstatic to hear from me!) and find out if they are willing to get the sleeve made, or I get my incredibly talented husband to machine me a new barrel out of stainless steel and be done with the whole problem. The materials for this would cost us about $1000.00, and my hubby has access to the equipment to get the job done. All we would need is the time...

Keep Calm and Carry On

Well the past 10 days have been utterly crazy.

With winter on its way (I still CAN'T believe it's actually OCTOBER!!!!), it was time to rip out the north wall in our studio and replace the 4" of insulation, wasps nests and chipmunk droppings with 6" of new insulation and two new windows. At first we were hoping this would be a weekend project. In fact, we were hoping that when I returned from a weekend show it would all be done and things would easily get back to the standard pre-Christmas craziness.

Yeah, riiiiiiiiiiight.



The weekend turned into a full week of construction. Of course, nothing could go easily or smoothly, really it was naive to assume it would have! And it's pretty hard to get anything done when the routine has been thoroughly upset. And so, as a result panic set in. I'm frantically trying to get ready for all the the shows I've got coming up, to get wholesale and custom orders out the door and I have to time my pugging around when there's going to be space cleared around the pug mill. The entire week the old propaganda line: Keep Calm and Carry On, kept running through my head. At least it gave me something to smile about.

So after a full 10 days, things are ALMOST done. In addition to a new wall and two new windows, I now (almost) have another (desperately needed) drying cabinet. With a little bit of luck I'll be able to get back into full production mode this week and start feeling like I'm getting things done again.



Annnnnd of course,
now is the time I finally find myself teeming with some fantastic ideas for the direction I want to take my feltware.
(sigh...)

Yup. Keep Calm and Carry On...

They're BaaAAAAck!

Well, the last few weeks have been nothing if not completely frustrating.

So here I am, custom orders on the go, wholesale orders on the go, desperately trying to stockpile work for upcoming Christmas shows, frantically trying to replace stock that has sold at summer shows. I'm busy. VERY busy. And I don't really have time for things to fall apart.

But alas. It had to be...

Remember that problem I was having a while back with my brand-spankin' new pug mill? Where my clay was corroding the inside of the mixing barrel and pesky little chunkies were making their way into my pieces?

Weeeeeeelllll....

The pugmill manufacturer recommended that I add epsom salts to my clay body. What this would do, I was assured, was change the pH of the clay which would in turn, prevent all those pesky little chunkies from forming in my pug mill. Okay. No problem. 44 grams, dissolved in hot water, added to 25 lbs wet clay. Mix, pug, throw.

No problem, right?

WRONG!!! What a complete disaster. Have a look for yourself:





Yup. Three kiln loads and counting. Ruined.

After much crying, cursing, Clayart-ing and phone calls, here is what I learned:

Too much epsom salt can cause blebbing. As a piece dries, the salts migrate to the area of the pot that is drying the fastest (the rim in most cases). During firing, the salts will turn to gas and generally burn off. However, if there is too much salt, and the clay begins to mature before all of the gases have escaped, you will end up with what I have in the photos. Lots and lots of little blisters, all over the rims of a couple of thousand dollars worth of pots. As my luck would have it, my clay manufacturer ALREADY adds epsom salts to their clay. So by adding more, I overloaded the clay.

So there you have it folks. My advice: talk to your clay manufacturer before adding ANYTHING to your clay body. No matter WHO told you to add it.

Aaaaaaand in addition to that...

Those f'ing chunkies are back, busily corroding away at my pug mill.

Yup.

oh! And that would be the NEW version of the pug mill. The one with the corrosion-resistant coating.

Yup. My luck.

The Perfect Pour

One of my favorite teachers from art school always said "if you're going to make functional pottery, use it!" So when I made one of my first functional teapots, I brought it straight into the house from the kiln and made a pot of tea. (Steeped for 5 full minutes for the perfect cup of Bourbon Vanilla). I picked up the teapot in great anticipation of my perfect cup of tea, and was horrified as the tea gurgled and blurbled out, down the side of the pot and everywhere but the mug, strategically placed beneath the spout.

I was so disappointed.

BUT...back to the drawing board.

Functional teapots are one of the biggest challenges for potters. They employ a great variety of throwing techniques, complete with lids, knobs and handles. They have to pour properly, hold enough tea, and not be too heavy. All of this adds up to a steep challenge. (No pun intended.)

So what exactly is it that allows a teapot to pour?

Well, first there's the obvious: the spout. Spouts need to be wide at the base and taper to a narrow opening at the end. This helps to push the tea out and far enough away from the pot to keep it from clinging to its side. But we're not done there. Spouts need to have a relatively sharp end to help cut off the flow of the tea as the teapot is righted. Unfortunately with pottery, too sharp will often lead to a chipped spout. If you can find a teapot that lets no more than ONE drip back down the outside of the pot, you've done good!

Spouts aren't the only important aspect to a good teapot though. The handle also requires some special considerations. Handles must be placed in such a way that the pot is balanced as the user is pouring the tea. This relieves strain from the wrist, and lets the pot do all the work. For best results, look for a 90 degree angle between handle and spout. The handles also need to be beefy enough to hold a full pot of tea. No one wants to see a full teapot release from its handle and go crashing to the table.

Some other small considerations include a wee little hole in the lid. Air needs to be able to enter the teapot as the tea is exiting to allow for a continuous, uninterrupted pour. And if the teapot is meant to be used with teabags, have a look inside to make sure there are holes creating a strainer of sorts, where the spout attaches to the pot. These will catch a teabag and prevent it from plugging the spout.




It's been a few years now since that first disastrous teapot of mine, which I still have. And I've abandoned the Bourbon Vanilla for a quieter Tongyu Mountain Green tea from one of my favorite tea stores, Distinctly Tea in Waterloo. But man, I do love a good cup o' tea.

Testing, Testing, 1,2,3...

Any potter will tell you that testing glazes sucks.
There is just no easy way to do it. It's time consuming and tedious, truly an evil necessity if one is looking for their own glazes that stand out in a crowd.

So I spent many hours this past week doing what I hate: testing glazes.

It has taken me many years to get to a point in glaze testing where I'm no longer rushing through it as fast as I can. I've made WAAAYYY too many mistakes doing just that. I've finally learned to slow down, clear my schedule for the afternoon, pull up a stool and get it done right.

So this time around I'm working on two different glaze bases: a glossy from the geniuses at Digitalfire, and a matte, a recipe that was given to me from the amazing and talented people at NSCAD. I will spend hours researching the colors that I am looking for: what ceramic oxides will yield what results, what ingredients are necessary in the base glaze to give the desired effect. I hunt down appropriate base recipes and calculate them using Insight, a downloadable glaze calculation program (highly recommend it!) and make sure all the numbers look good.

With all the research out of the way, I mix up 500g batches of each, with no colorants, and run each batch through a 120 mesh sieve. Then each glaze is weighed and divided into 5 different containers, all carefully marked with my trusty sharpie. It is at this point that the real test mixing begins. Colorants and stains are carefully measured into each well-labelled container (learned that the hard way, more than once!) and are then ready to be applied to test tiles.

I used to use lots of itsy-bitsy L-shaped tiles that I extruded. Each glazed surface was no more than 1" x 2". I have since moved on to larger surfaces. I found I just couldn't get enough information off of that small a surface. I need to actually SEE what the glaze is going to do, in the manner in which I'm going to be using it. Now I extrude tubes, about 3-4" tall, and 2 1/2" wide. This gives me lots of room to try as much as I need to on the same surface. Each tube is CAREFULLY labelled (also learned that the hard way, more than once!) and at the same time, I make very thorough notes in my sketchbook (again, the hard way...).

Glaze testing is painfully slow. After the research, there's the mixing. After the mixing, there's the firing. After the firing, you have to wait for the kiln to cool. After the kiln cools, you FINALLY get to look at the tiles, and inevitably, try to figure out what to adjust the next time around to get the results you are looking for. It can literally take weeks, months and even years to finally hit the jackpot and get what you were looking for in the first place. As frustrating as it is in the thick of it all, when you finally get that perfect glaze, all of that time spent doesn't seem so bad. It's like hitting pay dirt.

So for all of you out there who are also enduring glaze hell, hang in there! Without all the testing, you'll never find what you're looking for, and sooner or later your efforts will pay off.

Stress and the birth of Ideas

About two weeks ago my very old Plymouth Voyageur Minivan died.

I was busy glazing away in the studio while my husband was out running errands. When he came back, he very slowly walked over to where I was working and cautiously asked: "So...........how's it going?"

"Fiiiiinnnnnnnnne......" I replied. I knew something was up. He never greets me like that.

"I have some bad news...." My first thought was something happened to all the pottery I have in tubs in the van that I cart back and forth to my weekly Art in the Park. "The transmission went on the van."

I honestly didn't know whether to laugh, cry or throw up. We knew it was coming. The poor van was 13 years old and had been with us from coast to coast.

Now these types of events never seem to time themselves so that it is convenient for US. And the last thing I needed was to spend what little I had saved up on another vehicle. (sigh). If you've ever gone through this sort of thing, then you understand just how much stress is involved. Need a new vehicle right away, have no other means of transportation and live out in the country. We stressed about what we could afford, we stressed about trying to find something we actually WANTED, we stressed about borrowing a car to get groceries, we stressed about the plans that now needed to be put on hold. Stress, stress, stress....STRESS!!!!

And in the midst of it all, the ideas began to flow. I haven't carried a sketch book with me everywhere I go, for a while now. I think I need to bring one along from now on. I couldn't believe it. Here I was, supposed to be looking for a new car, and all I could see were colours, blossoms, flowers, patterns, glazes and shapes. It was like the floodgates had opened and ideas were pouring out of me faster than I could get them all on paper. And these ideas were evolving, from one to the next.

I guess it was a bright spot on a temporarily gloomy horizon. Needless to say, we found the PERFECT vehicle. A truck like this one, in a lovely burgundy. And with it sitting comfortably in my driveway, the ideas are starting to slow down. Now I can take some time to digest them, work through them, and figure out what the hell just happened.