Yesterday (see previous post “giftie gie us”) I brought a triangular vessel I had made to a man running a bonsai stand, wondering if my vessel might be made to sustainably containp one of his plants. I am happy to present the result, and ecstatic about the way the man had the bonsai echo the triangular design of the vessel. I’ve presented a photo to Donna today via text-message attachment, and I’ll give her the real thing when we get together.
Mug Squared
My talented poet friend Bill
Holds a mug that I made for him. Will
He use it? You bet!
Mug on mug, no regret,
Caffeination’s his everyday thrill.
.
Long ago Bill Campana, pictured above, commissioned a coffee mug from me, and I made him one, and he used it for years. It accidentally broke, and though Bill has other mugs, the thought of him without a working mug of my design disquieted me. I gave him a new mug last Sunday, and he graciously posed for this pic, mugging for the camera. 🙂
kaf
kaf
is a letter on the arabic alphabet
and in the hebrew alphabet as well
and represents the k sound
and can mean spoon
palm
crown
or potential
.
kaf is also the first syllable
in kaffeeklatsch
which brings us to the photo above
which is of a coffee mug i made
on the 26th of march of this year
and glazed near the end of april
with three other mugs of similar shape
.
the glaze happens to correspond
to the darker part
of the color spectrum of coffee
and makes a tasty contrast with coffee
that has been laced with half&half
and blue agave syrup.
.
i made many mugs this spring
of various sizes
and made the serendipitous discovery
that the smaller-volumed mugs
are more suitable
for the first cup of coffee of the morning
giving a lift the same as with a bigger mug
yet with less struggle-to-finish
in order to get out the door in time
and that makes the flavor more savorable.
.
kaf is also delightful in reverse.
if you don’t believe me,
do a fak check!
🙂
My tea is herbal prickly pears
Mixed up with lemonade
My bagel avocadoed wears
Balsamic grinned pomade
My wheel is Shimpo and it bears
A cylinder I’ve made
The venue’s PIP
The potter cares
To catch the clay world
Unawares
One fine day with much
Loves and Shares
And comments with no shade
A Southwest egg well laid
I made these mugs in late March and have glazed them to look like the coffee they contain. In both mugs are eight ounces of Americano coffee enhanced with cream and brown-sugar Simple Syrup. It is my wildly optimistic pipe dream that I will one day offer the mug of her choice to a future Special Someone, so that we might sit across from each other at a breakfast table and sip from our coffee-glazed coffee mugs while enjoying each other’s peaceable company. Hope survives, steamy and eternal!
Monday I made these four mugs.
Tuesday I had an appointment with the urologist.
Wednesday I set about trimming the mugs.
Not all of the mugs survived trimming. I went too deep with one and cut through it. So I reconstituted the trim scraps and remade a fourth mug, a sort of big brother to the others.
I had enough reconstituted scrap to pull four handles, and one by one I affixed them to the mug bodies via the Slip&Score method.
This went well with the three smaller mugs, and I still had session time, so I carefully trimmed the still-soft larger mug and put the last, largest handle on it, completing the quartet.
The NCAA’s annual basketball tournament is colloquially known as March Madness. For one who strives to be One With Clay, March Mudness is a better fit. 🙂
Today I saw the surgeon/Who’d sliced into my hands/To help my hand health burgeon/And sculpt as clay demands.
The good doctor says that the healing meets expectations and will likely continue for the rest of the year. After a year, he says, I can’t expect any more improvement. As of now, the only two symptoms of significance are a slight stiffness in my right middle finger and continued tingling of the fingers of my left hand.
I set the wheel to spinning/And formed a mug or two/With confidence a-ginning/And symbiosis true.
The clay body, Ironstone by name, was wonderfully supple and cooperative, and results felt more collaborative than solo-showish.
The serviceable Wareboard/Took on the two with glee/Then Thusséd and then Therefored/”Three fourths of Four is Three.”
The sound of the wheel’s motor augmented with the earcup-like acoustics of the splash tray can sometimes seem like the hum of the Cosmos itself. It is a lovely Alpha Wave maker when the wheel-throwing is smooth sailing.
Alas, the Fourth went sideways/A clay wall bent, then tore./The Clay Gods’ sometimes snide ways/So humble Potter’s core.
Here is when Failure and Success prove they are brother and sister. Big Bro says “Ah well, three out of four beats a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.” But Little Sis whispers, “Let’s take the scrap clay, which is plenty enough for another mug, to the wedging table and reconstitute it better than new. It’s a good exercise, and it’s also good exercise.”
The scrap clay resurrected/Was centered, shaped, and trimmed/And Gloom was redirected/With Wareboard’s glee undimmed.
“Try, Try Again” is ancient wisdom well suited to artisans. Every effort, be it success, failure, or “learning experience” mix, is another rung on the “ladder to the stars” that Bob Dylan sang of in the song “Forever Young.”
Now wrap them, keeping moistness/For handle-adds tomorrow./You’re happy, and your poisedness/Is free from theft and borrow.
The clunky last lines reflect giddiness and satisfaction. Time well spent is truly priceless.
The punkest mug I ever made
Is Chaos squared and cubed and flayed
And bastardized and misbegotten
And sidded vicious, johnnyed rotten.
Perhaps that’s why I love it so,
Resisting as it were The Flow
Just as I take a mocha sip
And feel its rough, unfriendly lip.
Good Punk should never go to waste
And it is vital that we taste
The bitter Truth that Love’s not all,
And Darkness often comes to call.
Today at PIP Coffee and Clay these two items came from the bisque kiln. The one on the left is a closed vessel with a cut-out lid. I have given it to PIP’s barista and resident sculptor Nadia L as a wedding present. She married her sweetheart Daniel some weeks ago. “Glaze it any way you want,” I told her.
The form on the right, while avian, is not quite a bird. Look closely and you’ll see a host of weirdnesses, because in the joy of sculpting, adherence to reality went out the window.
I’m still here at PIP, enjoying sparkling mineral water and waiting for 1:30 PM, when my second 3-hour session begins. I feel the mojo, and have a lot to do!
high-protein, low carb, says my muse/in massachusetts, and approves./the birds i made/are indifferent, being inanimate. one/needs a prosthesis or two/since her beak was lost in the kiln fire.
coffee/sipped from a cup made three weeks ago/with my own hands and mind/kona, classic black/fills my spirit.
One with Clay, Image and Text 