Ask any potter how they feel when they open the kiln after a firing, and I’m certain everyone would tell you that they lift the lid with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. There are so many things that can go wrong; something may have exploded spreading shards of fired clay all over everything or, in the case of a glaze firing, the colours and finishes may have ended up a million miles away from what you hoped for, or imagined. I fire my bowls three times and the final firing is to add the lustre, gold, platinum or mother of pearl, so there's plenty of room for disaster. I tried all sorts of combinations of temperatures and finishes and nothing had quite produced the gold I was looking for, until this happy day when I lifted the lid to see a whole shelf full of pure bright gold, shining up at me like treasure in a chest!
Perfectly imperfect
If anyone asks me what my star sign is my heart always slightly sinks because, whisper it, 'I'm a Virgo', and yes, I am a perfectionist. I'd be fibbing if I said I didn't like order and straight lines, and I can hang a picture right in the middle of a wall entirely by eye, so why then do I love irregularity when it comes to my own work? I enjoy the challenge of throwing on the wheel; centering the clay, adding speed and water and hoping for the appearance of a good-looking bowl, mug or dish, but what I end up with always seems to be broadly similar, and the possibility of unique shape, form and style has, so far, eluded me. For me there is a particular beauty in hand building porcelain. It really likes to do its own thing; a crooked edge, a dent, a bump, a twist here, a turn there, all imperfections really, but oh so energetic and so individual. It's my thing you see - every piece is perfectly imperfect - and that's a bit of an eye opener for a Virgo like me.
The clay is in charge
One of the most exciting - but sometimes frustrating - things about working with clay, is that it has a life of its own and the outcome really isn't up to me. I always start out hoping it will behave itself and do what I want it to do - turn into a bowl or a sculpture or a vase maybe - but whether it will go there remains to be seen. Some of the pieces I have made that I like the most have ended up a million miles away from what I originally intended. Hard to believe now but this dish was meant to be a vase ... I began with a large chunk of porcelain and a pretty fixed idea in my mind. It was going to be tall and willowy, very stylish, pure white and probably end up full of peonies ... but the clay just refused to do it. It wouldn't go 'up', it just wanted to go 'out' and at times like these there is always a moment when you have to concede and say 'OK, you win' and then let go and see where the clay takes you. As it happens, I'm pleased this quirky little dish appeared because I rather like it! It won't hold a peony, but it will hold some Easter eggs, and there's always tomorrow for that vase; but of course there's no guarantee...
Clay magic
I was looking for something new to do about 2 years ago when I heard about a local clay group. Just five women, meeting one night a week for a couple of hours and messing about with clay. It sounded right up my street. No pressure to produce amazing work, or anything at all in fact, the chance to meet some new people and a return to a material that I had first worked with when I was 12 and which I hadn't touched since. It's going to sound corny but the moment I pulled a piece of cold wet clay out of the bag and held it in the palm of my hand I knew this was my thing. I stared at it in surprise because I hadn't expected it, and it felt like a homecoming.