Ambition could be the title of the hopeful list of ware to be included under the next craft show tent. But I’m taking things one day at a time; throwing a dozen bowls one afternoon, and a clay brick’s worth of mugs on another. Large bowls next, and yesterday, it was teapots – only four teapots, to be exact.
I needed time to allow for personality, teapot personality. Cane handles were a must, but the rest was up to the flurry of happenstance and the what-if’s that come about when throwing has ended and hand-building commences.
From a utilitarian point of view, how would each member of this little quartet function? To fill, to pour, and to carry when tea is about to be served? How would this dark brown clay enhance the series of glazes I plan to use? Thoughts pause hands to consider these and other things, as little periods of grace make room for the future possibilities of each teapot.
Some things happen in tiny increments of time, especially those less glorious tasks. Fun jobs like planning and gathering, then using a mitre saw to chop wood into usable pieces for portable shelves occur in a time warp of effortless bliss. Framing shelving units – not so much.
So, I had researched long enough and had to prepare for the eventuality of the craft event. It was time to stop procrastinating; the shelves were going to happen. There would be no distractions – shelves would be built.
And they were. It took less time than anticipated and of course they aren’t perfect – they have fallen over once, taking a dozen or so pots to their doom. However, with some minor adjustments for improved stability, these two sets of shelves should serve their purpose and function, for they are lightweight, portable, easily set up and taken down, and will hopefully not continue their villainous rampage against my pottery.
Thanks to my stylist-extraordinaire niece, mskfitz, and Sato Salon Organics, my pottery has been displayed and sold in a brick and mortar setting for quite some time now. When this retail opportunity fell into my lap, it compelled me to act upon part of my long ignored business plan to-do list (note the passive voice). Oh, I knew what needed to be done, but always considered every step forward a commitment to taking on that one big facet of pottery-making that didn’t hold much appeal. While making pottery provided an inherently creative process filled with countless opportunities of discovery, let’s just say that selling pottery did not rev these engines.
So, I performed some basic tasks: made a business card, set the pricing, and even showed up at a ‘meet the artist’ moment. Well, the business card revealed its hastily-made existence; the pricing was perfunctory thanks to a potter friend’s sage advice; and I survived the ‘meet the artist.’ I now found myself, unwittingly, on the potter purveyor’s path.
As far as branding was concerned, I noticed that I desperately needed some professional help, and when I mentioned this observation in passing to my daughter, she replied, “That’s kind of what I do.” After a quick comparison of our respective business cards, it became evident that she was my branding creative (eileenalot.com). So with my friends and family discount, I sent my down payment via Venmo, contracting her branding services. I told her to take her time, that I was in no hurry.
Knowing full-well what the next mini-step required, I purchased the obligatory 10′ craft fair Ez-up tent with cloth panel sides and wheeled storage bag. After watching several YouTube videos of how to set up the tent and how to put the cloth atop the frame, I made a sandwich and planned an evening with friends where margarita consumption and inaugural tent raising would occur.
Now, to heavily research how to build display shelves and make an itemized list, with pictures, of the necessary wood and hardware required to do so.
Setting up the photo booth was easy once I saw that post about using PVC pipe to create the structure.
Using my chop saw made quick work of cutting the pipe to the dimensions I needed; the 3-way fittings and elbows worked great to not only build the box but to make it stable. I draped a few yards of muslin over the top and sides, then stood a piece of matt board at the back. I ran a roll of tracing paper across the ‘floor’ of the booth and up and over the matt board – folded the paper over the top of the board to hold it securely in place, then left the paper uncut on the roll in the front of the booth so it could easily be replaced as needed. With a lamp placed outside the muslin ‘wall’ I was ready to shoot some pottery images. The whole task took about 20 minutes from start to finish. An added benefit is that the PVC is very lightweight which will make it easy to move and quick to disassemble and reassemble should I ever need to do so.
It wasn’t the most stylish way to move thirty-some pieces of framed work, but it was the most efficient. Three suitcases, one very large, one medium sized, and one small, along with one canvas bag, did the trick. My niece, Kelly, picked the work up yesterday and graciously offered to hang it all in the Sato salon organics, in the West End.
While picking up the work from the series, “On the Outside Looking In,” Kelly thought some of my wheel thrown pottery would nicely complement this framed hanging work, so out to the kiln shed we went to rummage through my tower of glazed-fired pottery in bins. While selecting a few crates-ful of pottery, Kelly had the idea that when bringing coffee to the Sato patrons, she could pour that java brew into one of a collection of my pottery mugs. So, we went through the bins again to select a group of coffee mugs.
When it was time to load up her car, I wasn’t sure that the suitcases would fit into the tiny real estate of her compact, and now with multiple crates of pottery added to all the artwork, I was even more skeptical of a successful outcome. Somehow it all came together. Who knew you could fit so much into so little square footage?
This question is not often asked, but rather shared as the statement, ‘I’m not artistic.’ Dictionary.com offers that artistic is: “1. conformingtothestandardsofart; 2. showing skill or excellence in execution: artistic workmanship; 3. exhibiting taste, discriminating judgment, or sensitivity; 4. exhibitinganinvolvementinorappreciationofart; or 5. involving onlyaestheticconsiderations. So, it looks like there are several ways to be artistic. But how did ‘skill or excellence’ become equivalent to replication representation as a means of defining one’s artistic ability?
Usually when my students or friends share their perspectives about their lack of an artistic nature/ability, I discover that they’re referring to a perceived lack of representational replication skill in their completed or expected execution – notably of a final product. This eye-on-the-replication-representational-prize perspective can get in the way of the ‘space’ needed for artistic creation – for making and creating art may require decision making, a discerning eye, analysis, and modification, but more importantly, it demands the freedom of happenstance. While discriminating judgement is necessary, and confidence in that judgement needs to be nurtured, serendipitous discovery occurs during process rather than deliberate map-following to a pre-determined end product.
Confidence is the fuel that moves artists forward and allows risk-taking action that moves us past a simple conformity to the standards of art and catapults us into the realm of real artistic possibility. Confidence can be present in artwork long after the artist hand leaves the paper, canvas, clay, or stone; just look at Dali’s line drawings of well…anything. The confident energy of an artist’s hand is embedded in that bold line, daringly pounded brushstroke, or unrepentant application of glaze; for self confidence in one’s artistic nature documents concrete evidence of human creative energy.
Simply put, developing an artistic nature requires the ability to allow plenty of room for our self confidence, as we respond with our senses, to our surroundings.