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I used to be one of the Riverfolk, until I discovered the joys of mud. Working in clay is a lifetime labour of love, unending explorations of one of the planets most mundane offerings, a mix of water and dirt. I was under the illusion that I was finding my way with the electric kiln and M340,my clay of choice, a nice white body that looked good with my favorite glazes. Now we have a wood kiln. We have to change everything. New clay. New finishing. New year. New you.
The new clay we have started with is gritty, rich, almost chocolate brown. It doesn't behave well. I have to play and learn and lose pieces and I get up in arms about that. My time in the studio is "precious", but every piece can't be "my precious". If I don't play and stretch and fail and flop I'll never learn the boundaries of the new clay and the new kiln. This whole endeavor may force me to loosen up and let go. There is no one kind of potter, there are so many different kinds of clays and different firing techniques, there is a pottery for every personality! Maybe an artist doesn't change the clay for the better, it could be the other way around...

 


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