Crisp air in the morning breeze, late summer rays warming my skin.
I align my making and clay experience with the seasons. Whether it be summer, fast drying hot studio days followed by cool evening dips in the ocean. Or, in contrast, frozen clay, merino layers with steaming kettles sending plumes into the dimmer light.
Right now, we are in Autumn. It's my favourite time of the year, as everything has a poetic shine to it. The trees have grown crimson in character with twisted brown leaves littering the ground. Early morning light, hits the linen curtains with a soft glow and the evening folds into a blanket of darkness much earlier that we yearn for, and it makes the haze of this time of the year sleepy as we adjust.
For a while now, I've been preparing for an Anagama firing out at the Martin property in Bridge Pa. Many interesting shapes are emerging from the studio, and a fire is building in my belly while the pieces and preparation come together. I look forward to gifting my shapes, thoughts and creations to the flame - to entrust them to add shadow, shine and depth. Firing with wood is s process where it takes and takes, and you give and give. All encapsulated in this dance with bricks, mortar, clay, wood and flame. Simple really, but the alluring excitement of it all is like a moth to a, well flame. Irresistible and somewhat dangerous.
With the firing on the horizon, in the coming weeks, I know I will sync into a rhythm. There is still a few things that need to be done before we strike the match. Shelf preparation, wadding, transporting pots, finishing and pre firing pots. So I will put my head down and pop back up on the other side, post firing. 'The march of the pots' came to mind, how would I describe that? ... possibly where your clay creations take hold of you and something other worldly happens to your sub conscious thought. I'm no longer in control and surrender to the dirt.