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These bowls were not meant to be similar in shape, but it would have been nice. The one on the right was first, and was thrown more closely using Dick's instructions than the one on the left. They're both a little tall for their width, in my opinion, making them less pleasing to me as bowls... that's something I'll have to work on since most of my bowls end up being this kind of shape.
These pots *were* meant to be the same shape... something I was only partially successful at. The one on the left was thrown with Dick providing assistance, and the one on the right was when I tried to copy the first one several hours/a day later (I don't remember exactly). Thus, the one on the right is a bit smaller than the one on the left, and it also has less of the smooth curve of the original. I patently need to work on making sets of things, so that they're this amount of similar I suppose is good, as it's a good leaping off point for making sets. However, I would that they were more similar.
Plates! My favorites, ever! (sarcasm) Actually, all my plates (all three) went ok. Dick's method for pulling them out flat is somewhat different than I used to do, and despite my difficulty at the beginning with it, I think it works better. Neither of these ended up being quite the size I wanted... I always forget about the shrinkage! Or, rather, I forget quite how much there is. The one on the left I pulled up after widening it, for to make a casserole dish or some such like that. The one on the right I deliberately made with more clay so that it could be larger, and I was relatively pleased with how it ended up.
These are my raku pots. I only used three glazes: white, black, and copper. The copper makes the turquoise-y color, and white and black together make blue. Raku is delightfully unpredictable, so these did not come out quite as I imagined them. After cleaning them up a bit (they end up with quite a bit of extra carbon on) I did find shiny colors that I like... if I had these to hold, turn about, and consider, I might become fond of them. As it is I'll have to reserve judgement until August/September/whenever.
This picture shows several different pieces, some of which I subsequently destroyed and some of which I kept and continued to finish. The vase in the background I made with Dick's assistance; the shape is very pleasing, and although it is a little bit small, it's well balanced. The vases I originally made to be the gifts for others, but as I kept looking at them, over the week, I became less and less fond of them, finally tossing them into my clay to recycle. They were all right, but unturned (untrimmed) they showed the skill I still had yet to learn. The two jar tops I did throw lids to finish - except I forgot or underestimated how much the jars had already shrunk, and my lids ended up too big. I had to slowly trim down the outsides in order to make the lids fit the jars well enough. Embarrassing... but it was ok because I learned about making jars and lids. Plus I ended up with three useful jars.
These candle-holders were originally goblets in my mind, but Barbara correctly pointed out that it would be easier to throw goblets than handbuild, so I did candle-holders. They were made by using a press mold, which was essentially the inside of a plastic food container lined with saran wrap. What was, for me, the most important and creative part of the process was deciding upon and making the bases for each individual piece. All of the candle-holders have a base that deals with the number three; most have three sections providing support for the central base. I wanted them to look like a set, despite the differences between each of them, so I used slips in a single color family (actually, hard to avoid since most of the slips they had were of a single part of the spectrum, from yellow to blue). If you look closely at the picture, you may be able to distinguish five different slip colors. Or maybe not. But they're all there - light green used twice, dark green three times; turquoise used thrice, light blue once, and dark blue thrice again. To fill out the rest, I simply left the clay as it was - hoping that the colors work well with it. I'm extremely nervous about these pieces; I inadvertently became fond of them as I was making the different bases for each holder, because after feeling creatively stale, suddenly I had ideas just flowing from my hands. I am desperate to see how they turn out, but as they're being fired with the rest of the earthenware stuff, there aren't even going to be pictures until late August. Aaaaagh.
I almost left this pitcher too late to make it into, well, a pitcher. Also, it's being strangely hard for me to spell pitcher today. Anyhoo... I just threw it as a vase-like pot (5lbs of clay, go me!) and then forgot to make it into a pitcher until it was almost leather hard. I remoistened the top and edges and let it sit and then slowly began pulling the spout. I actually borrowed one of Dick's creamers from the shop so that I could attempt to create a dripless spout as he does. I don't know how well it worked, but it does rather closely resemble one of his so we'll see. The handle I expected to have to fight in order to get a long enough handle, but although it was far from perfect I was able to pull a handle on my first try. Another point for the experience versus the time spent away. Of course I put it on slightly diagonal. Whatever.
And here are my finished jars. The two in the back are the ones I had to scrape repeatedly to make the edges fit into the tops of the jars. The front one I didn't even turn - I liked it as it was, and it fit the jar rather well from the start. I think that the one on the right looks a little like a bobby's cap - a police cap for those from the non-UK side of the pond. Like me. I'm not from the UK. Yet.

This was a piece I made out of my destroyed first 5lb piece. Dick was helping me throw it to be taller than the seven inches I couldn't get past, and his hand got caught on it at one point like does tend to just happen. So I cut the top off and threw this with the bottom. I love this shape but I forget about it - Bev had thrown one with Dick's assistance the day before, and I badly wanted to do one myself as well. It's far from perfectly spherical, especially after I took it off the wheel, but I'm ok with that... sometimes.
Today I threw a pot (soon to be a pitcher, assuming all goes well tomorrow) using approximately 5lbs of clay. It's far from perfect, but it represents an accomplishment in the past three days that I hoped for. Since Sunday, I have spent only about 2-4 hours a day on the wheel, but with the assistance of Dick (my instructor for throwing) and the assistance of confidence due to being the most experienced potter taking this course (of the three of us, that is) I have been trying things I know to be challenging for me, and tomorrow I may try to throw several things of the same weight and attempt to make them all to the same shape. Frightening prospect. Today I attempted to duplicate a vase form that Dick helped me throw yesterday, and it was only somewhat successful - the basic form was the same, but specific details were off. Oh well.
What I'm learning the most about is relaxation. In the past, I would become so sore after throwing that even attempting to wedge clay became even more laborious than I usually find it. The entire process, while enjoyable, was sustained through tension; part of this is no doubt due to my insecurity regarding my throwing abilities, something that is blissfully absent right now (again, being the most experienced by a fair shot), but to be fair, I had never really thought about tension as being a hindrance to my ability to successfully pot. Dick is very emphatic about the cultivation of relaxed muscles, and only specifies when tension is appropriate.
I'm making up for my expertise in the wheel room with a lack of ability and design in the hand building room, though. Theresa has been hand building for years, and makes the smoothest, most even pinch pots. Bev is likewise very adept, and adds on top years of design experience and ideas that push her creations past simple pinch pots into something sophisticated. Meanwhile, I struggle to have a bowl that does not resemble a bird-feeder in shape, and can only smooth my pots if I use something like a wet sponge. That particular part has been rather discouraging, although I am excited to see what the Raku kiln does with our little pieces. However, we are beginning something new tomorrow, and it is up to me to decide what I make. I either have far too many ideas or none at all; the effect is the same either way with me becoming paralyzed through indecision (not uncommon for me, as you may know). I'm thinking about goblets or candleholders, but given my track record with handbuilding, I suppose it doesn't matter what I attempt to make; it's unlikely to be something I like regardless.
I have, sitting on the side table next to me, a lamp clearly made by Dick and glazed and fired by Barbara (she has arthritis, and so cannot really throw anymore) as well as the small seascape bowl generously given to me by Rosemarie. I find both of these inspirational, which is necessary because as D & B talk to us, each day over a meal or three, about their trials with kilns and glazes and how expensive materials and equipment tend to be, I find it hard to maintain hope for my possible future as a potter. When I visited Rosemarie, she was quite encouraging, which I found to be fantastic, but while Dick and Barbara are far from discouraging (and I like that Dick will set Theresa and Bev on one project and me on another one - little ego boost there) I get the feeling that they don't quite believe that I will actually pot professionally as they do. It seems as though Bev, who is admittedly much closer to it than I am due to having worked and saved money for as long as I've been conscious, is taken a little more seriously regarding her plans to pot. She does make all the interested noises (because she is interested, and I quite like Bev, and this isn't envy... just strangeness) but I've never had much trade in anything other than watching intensely, nodding when eye contact is made, and simply trying to show my interest through silence. Ok, when I talk about it, it clearly sounds ridiculous, but it is sort of a philosophy - I don't want to seem like I'm trying so hard that it's obviously false, and sometimes when people act that way around me I feel sort of patronized... and at the same time, I do already know some of the things that D & B are saying, although they obviously aren't quite aware of it, or something, so it's not really interesting news to me. Interesting, maybe, but not news.
Anyway, on to pottery talk. We've been working with earthenware, or terra cotta, which I expected to be rather more groggy than it is; it's actually quite beautiful to throw with and I think is my preference over stoneware now (which does tend to hurt more). It's also a great color on its own, which is one of the things I like about porcelain, but is much, much easier to throw than that beautifully expensive clay, so is more practical as well. We're going to be decorating our pieces with slip, which I have never really used much before (being so fascinated by the shiny of glazes) so that should be an interesting experience - I just hope I don't ruin pieces whose shapes I like by painting on stupid little designs, as tends to happen more often than I would like. D & B use a small electric kiln, but mostly their gas kiln for reduction firings - apparently they are more expensive (logical) and therefore rare, but they are essentially all I'm used to at this point, as RISD almost always had us fire our stuff at cone 10 reduction. It is part of the reason that the glazes run so beautifully together and create those stunning effects, so I'm going to have to think about that someday. They've talked about how much clays cost at bulk, and we've seen prices for lustres and machinery, but I am somewhat concerned about the prices of glazes... but it's bound to be extremely different in America due to using different materials (well, clay's bound to cost differently too, I guess) and all that. I am also somewhat concerned about the trial-and-error method, almost as much as I am about the need to keep scrupulous records of everything so as to figure out what works... I am not great at either of those things, especially the latter which would trip up the former. I dislike the idea of having to throw out an entire kiln that simply did not work for one reason or another; that's not only expensive clay and glaze gone to waste, but it's also going to be on the electricity bill. Not good. Who knows where I'll be financially in ten years, but I would be surprised if I ever supported myself on pottery, given how difficult it is to start without a large investment.
Anyway, I've sort of written myself to sleep here, so I'll try to cover some things I've missed when I come back tomorrow (probably after my afternoon nap - let the others laugh, but I only seem to be productive once I've slept an extra hour in the middle of the day).
-lorraine