This journal was written during the Winter of 2020/21 and outlines my journey from total clay novice to completing my first body of work. Herein is an objective outline of the initial learning processes for a beginner thrower and more broadly a representation of what it takes to get started as a maker generally. I hope it may serve as an inspiration and rough guide for anyone taking their first steps in any discipline. Moreover I share some of my thoughts, feeling and reflections in a very subjective manner throughout.  

Introduction (20/12/2020) SUNDAY:

 

Today I have a meeting with some members of the NPA (Northern Potter's Association). Getting sacked was never really something I thought would happen to me but it did and only yesterday evening in fact. After two and-a-half months of delivering groceries for a major online retailer I was given the boot due to a clash with management. In a way it was inevitable as despite my best efforts I could not align my values with those of the company. And so, under these new and unprecedented circumstances it feels as though I’m journeying into something new.  

This meeting of Northern Potters and ceramicists had been a prominent calendar event for me since its existence was announced to me about a month ago. Ever since encountering another potter in Sheffield I had been made aware of the Association and its importance for someone trying to get started with clay; for someone like myself. Perhaps I was still hyped-up from my dramatic dismissal last night I’m unsure, but whatever the reason there was a feeling of great excitement within me. This genuine excitement was peculiar as almost all social occasions would usually fill me with a mixture of childlike nervousness and matured adulthood resistance. This social gathering in particular should have created these feelings in spades as it had the added feature of all attendees being completely unknown to me. However there it was; I felt excited and brightly optimistic. And as it turned out these feelings were harbingers of my graciously joining a new community. 

On reaching the proximity of the planned rendezvous spot I realized that finding my group of Northern Potters would not be as easy as I thought. Our instructions were to head for the general outdoors area of a cafe located in the beginnings of the ‘Peak District’ (the peak district is a national park on the outskirts of Sheffield's city boundaries). The day being one of rare and precious brightness in December meant that there were plenty of people taking advantage of the good weather. As I approached the café dozens of bodies were mingling around and about loosely maintaining distance of 1-2 metres between each other. Despite this added complication I wandered happily around the premises still feeling confident, and sure enough after not long I set my eyes upon a group of about ten people standing in a circle and intuitively suspected they were potters. I approached smiling and was greeted with smiles back so I tentatively asked: 

“Are you lot Potters?” 

“Yes” they were and I was greeted warmly by now bigger smiles to match my own. I was soon engaged by the two NPA organisers. After introducing myself to the group through my interaction with this organising duo I was then amidst interactions with another new member of the association. Everyone seemed to be on great form and considering this was the first time they had all been able to meet in lieu of the national restrictions perhaps it's no wonder. Over the next ninety minutes I spoke to every person at the gathering and came away utterly inspired by the stories of how these potters were persistently making things out of clay whether as a hobby or profession. After leaving the group, and I was of the very last to depart, I was uplifted and encouraged that I would not be alone and without friends in fulfilling my gently growing intentions of becoming a fledgling potter. And indeed over the next days and weeks I would take small but mighty steps towards this goal.  

Herein begins the Journal of a Hatchling Potter... 

Chapter 1 - ‘Making a start’ (11/01/21) MONDAY: 

Today was clay day number four. Preceding this fourth day of clay were days one to three naturally. To concisely recap these three days may give some context and perspective on today’s rundown. The first day of clay was of euphoria as I threw quite successfully on my new pottery wheel at home in Sheffield. It had been a lot of investment to acquire my first ever wheel and setup a space to throw at home and my toil seemed justly rewarded by the joy of the process and the good results from my efforts. These beginners luck however was followed by a discombobulated dejection during days two and three. These two sessions on the 27th and 28th of December were undertaken while I was home for a few days to celebrate my house-mate's 40th birthday. They were not fun sessions, I had lumps, air pockets and foreign particles in my clay and I just couldn't get going with forming the most basic of pots. As a ground-zero beginner my intentions are not to throw on the potter’s wheel for production. At this stage I'm mostly interested in practising - happy to recycle the clay from my failed attempts and imperfect forms for more throwing sessions on another day. Having said that it is certainly encouraging when one or two nice shapes come out of a lengthy and trying session at the potter’s wheel. I had no worthy results from two days at the wheel – that's four or more hours of intensive throwing practice with nothing to show for it, not even a small bowl! Even towards the end of the second session on the 28th I went to take something that was mediocre at best off the wheel. I wanted at least to have something to show for my physical labours and mental endeavours. When I wired it from the wheel head, the base ripped out! It was only about a millimetre off the wheel head. That just about summed up these two days. If my mood has an impact on my throwing and resulting pots and let's face it our moods affect everything then actually I couldn't have expected anything else. It had been a challenging couple of weeks over Christmas. With Covid restrictions in place the festive season was even more emotionally charged than usual and right of the back of Boxing Day I was feeling frazzled. And all this time I had been eagerly anticipating the space and time to simply sit down at my wheel and throw. Imagining how pleasant it would be to just spend a whole day with my lumps of terracotta clay! Though life rarely works out the way it is imagined. This case was no exception as I suffered just as deeply at home in Sheffield in front of my potter’s wheel as I had done during Christmas Eve through to Boxing Day elsewhere. And yet having learned the same lesson over and over I still fall head-over-heels for the tricks of the imagination.  

Whenever I fantasise about my future life of being a potter why is it that I omit all the banal, good, bad and ugly aspects of life? How do I repeatedly fool myself and conveniently forget that life is mostly about being human. Life is not mostly about being an artist or maker, painter, potter or musician. It can be a little bit about being these things but life will always mostly be about being human. In the ignorant, oblivious meanderings of my imagination I visualise a spacious studio, all the clay and tools and glazes a potter could desire, three types of kiln: Gas, oil and wood. The dominant feeling is one of ease and excitement. I'm not imagining the human facts and practicalities. The studio of my imagination would cost a fortune to rent, the plethora of tools, clay and glazes would mean more maintenance, cleaning, tidying, organising. And three types of kiln! Keeping enough gas, oil and chopping all that wood – are you kidding! I don’t feel the pain in my back from chopping all that wood or experience the stress of all that accounting and maintenance for the rest of my life. These practicalities are the great things of life and our creativity and interests are a small relief from such; they are not life itself. 

Perhaps this is why the creations of humans are so amazing. When we see a painting, hold a pot or listen to a song we are accessing something higher than all this mundane, burdensome human stuff. The flame of creativity, being in the zone of making burns off all that drudgery, blows away all the dross of painful joints and leaky bank accounts. But while art is borne of something higher than all this it is still intractably connected to it as well. And that's because it's from us and of us and we are humans. Hungry, emotional, utterly fallible humans. 

I wonder is that why a person bonds so tightly with their occupation, especially in the creative sphere? Is it because a person’s work is always accompanied by the human stuff? One artist might recall how this work was completed during a break-up, with a heart that was broken but still made these pots. Another maker remembers a collection of work which was done while pregnant. A life-story accompanied by a body of work reflecting feelings of euphoria and of desolation. Paintings of joy, some pots made in a state of depression. 

And then the connection we make with being a painter, a potter, a musician. This is part of our identity, part of our human story. We did it when we were feeling all emotions, going through adolescence, middle age, senility and finally death. Imagine the work of a lifetime depicted visually, tangibly in art. It was a tremendous part of our journey. My name is Adam and I am a potter and when I’m gone maybe people that knew me will say to someone that didn’t “He was a good man, he loved making pots”. Isn’t it wonderful that after death our lives are viewed in the most positive of lights! Even a devil will likely receive charity and summarised in some sentence like “He had his moments but he had a good heart”. 

Anyway today, clay day number four was just fine thank goodness. Almost a fortnight had passed since days two and three. To begin the day I would be recycling clay for the first ever time and this economic and eco-friendly process felt an important one. It wasn't without trepidation and mental preparation that I faced my task this morning on the 11th of the first month of the new year. I had been experiencing an underlying apprehension about returning to my Sheffield surroundings for some days. Having now no job to return to and with lockdown still in full operation I knew that clay was all there was for me to do in the coming weeks, and maybe months. It was squarely on me to get things moving, to ‘make it happen’ with my aspirations in clay.  

After clearing some of my housemates tools off of a workbench in the basement I set to work cleaning it down as much as possible. Assiduously getting rid of any dust and dirt knowing that any such unwanted particles would be embedded in the clay and prove troublesome during throwing. The work surface sufficiently clear I brought the lumps of clay and set them down, at a guess the combined weight was approximately 5KG. I then setup my newly acquired, though six-year-old I-pad at a safe distance away from the clay. I managed to perch it on top of the bundle of tools. Where clay is concerned, putting anything you want to keep clean and dry in a high position is advisable. With a YouTube video already loaded called 'How to Spiral and Ram’s head: wedging & kneading clay'. I hit the ‘play’ symbol in the middle of the I-pad’s touchscreen. At eighteen minutes long it turned out to be just the right thing. I had tried kneading clay before at studios and workshops but always half-heartedly and unsure of myself to the extent that I wouldn't really get stuck in. But now the moment had come where I had my own clay to recycle and if I wanted to salvage this 5KG of stoneware clay for throwing down onto the potter’s wheel another day then I'd have to roll my sleeves up. After some confusion and what can only be described as ten minutes of ineffective clay massage I managed to get on okay with the Ram's head method. The more advanced spiral wedging will have to wait for a bit longer. It’s more than enough for today to have made these baby steps forward in one technique of recycling clay. 

With this much anticipated event over I balled up my freshly wedged and kneaded clay. Balling up is cutting the clay into pieces of a size one would like to put on the wheel for throwing. Usually a potter would weigh each piece and make a cup or bowl or jug according to the weight of the clay being used. So if making small mugs ten-ounces of clay might be sufficient, similarly one-pound bowls can be formed into general purpose ‘cereal’ type bowls and jugs can be made so big as to require a lump of clay weighing several kilograms. Not concerned about making anything in particular (not concerned with making anything at all actually) I balled-up the clay without weighing it. I felt easing myself in today was a good policy and so I only practised my throwing for an hour in the afternoon. I also used fresh clay from the bag for this, this clay straight from the supplier was untouched since being packaged and a much safer bet than my recently recycled clay. With the possibility of air-bubbles and alien substances in the clay I’d just recycled I didn’t want to make things any harder for myself towards the end of what felt like a substantial day. This recycled stuff then will wait for tomorrow’s wheel throwing session - then we'll really see how good my Ram's head kneading was! 

A Hatchling potter signing out. 

(12/01/2021) TUESDAY: 

 

The aforementioned ‘tomorrow’ was today and in precisely four hours time it will be yesterday. If you read that twice you might understand that all I’m really saying is that today is a fixed point in time when a fixed point in time is an impossibility. In this universe nothing ever stops, nothing is ever still. But moving onto more mundane matters - I'm presently sitting down to this 'A Hatchling Potter' journal and its precisely eight PM. There is a cup of tea by my side and its time to update myself - and as it happens you - on today's proceedings. Now about that recycled clay from the Ram's head kneading technique I employed yesterday. Well, it really went okay and even more pleasingly it turns out that to do the Ram's head technique requires less clay mass than spiral wedging. Therefore I halved that 5KG lump of clay and kneaded 2.5KG. The first half I did thoroughly and energetically. The preparation of clay is physically demanding stuff. The second half therefore I kneaded with somewhat diminished physical energy and maybe more crucially exhausted mental patience. This second lump of clay then received less of my physical exertion and overall kneading time. One of the tips an experienced potter from the Northern Potter’s Association gang had told me was to be meticulous in recording all the things I do differently with the various variables involved in the potting process: Clay, glazes, firings, everything that is variable should be recorded so as to gather information and knowledge about the entire making process efficiently. This approach appealed to me greatly. Indeed, for as long as I can remember I have been a worshiper at the altar of the Goddess of efficiency. Whether it’s getting from A to B, preparing food or buying the right product efficiency reigns supreme among the multifarious factors considered for tackling the everyday decisions of life. 

With this advice in mind I realised here was a good chance to register the difference between the clay fresh from the bag and my recycled clay. And further still I could compare recycled clay that had been thoroughly kneaded with recycled clay that had not been thoroughly kneaded. I therefore kept the round balls of clay separated in each of these categories ready to throw with today. This moment being today’s evening the results are in and I'm delighted to say it went rather well! Out of about six or seven throwdowns today I only noticed a slight difference between the new clay and the recycled clay I thoroughly kneaded. The less thoroughly kneaded clay also was fine. It's probably important to point out that before purchasing this stoneware clay I had been kindly advised that this particular clay (affectionately named ‘B9c general stoneware’ by the Doncaster based supplier) did indeed recycle very well and so would be suitable to a beginner thrower. Certainly, the case being that such a beginner probably will not get much off the wheel-head and consequently end up with far more clay in a big lump than formed into pots. In spite of this rather ominous ratio I feel today was unequivocally a big success. Yesterday I recycled clay for the first time, today I threw with it. Considering such a process was a complete mystery to me just days ago I’m delighted to have progressed this far. And - and it’s a big ‘and’, out of the day’s six or seven throwdowns I got three pots off the wheel! As much as these introductory throwing sessions are practice-focused it still feels pretty spectacular to get something nicely formed off the wheel that can be left out to dry and firm-up overnight. After all this is the first stage of creation in the ceramic making process and that’s what’s inspiring all this effort in the first place. Creating something beautiful, even if it masquerades as ugly and abhorrent, must be the ultimate goal of any true craft-person and artist.  

Photo of some - in my eyes - beautiful forms fresh from the potter’s wheel today:  

“Get in there!” 

As those reader’s with a visual eye for detail may note there is a bowl and a dish on display in the above picture. Such forms are there despite my plan of systematically trying to throw ever straighter, taller and lighter cylinders as a technical exercise. The reason for these rogue non-cylindrical forms is that during my lunch-break I watched a video on throwing bowls. The instructor on the video could well be my YouTube throwing Guru. His name is Mr. Simon Leach and he held me spell-bound for the entirety of thirty-two minutes with his tutorial video on throwing 'GP' bowls. No dear Reader these aren't vessels for Doctors only; the GP stands for ‘General Purpose’. I was captivated by Mr. Leach's mastery at the wheel combined with his straightforward teaching style and not least the bowls he was throwing were beautiful. I did my best to remember his instructions when I returned to the ‘helm’ (at my wheel) for an afternoon session. And my first attempt started out looking promising. However this intended bowl that was taking shape under the touch of my fingers soon decided it wanted to be a shallow dish. Before I could do anything much about it, the clay had become just that under the very fingers that were assigned the task of making a bowl! It looked perfectly all right after having become its own master nonetheless and so I decided better let it be what it wants to be. I subsequently wired it off and removed it from the wheel-head and gingerly lifted it safely onto a board. After all, my other pottery Guru by the name of Phil Rogers states in his book that although one should have a clear idea of the form for making before sitting down to the wheel, if a beautiful form should rather ‘accidentally’ appear then there is nothing wrong at all in taking this form and moreover one should be pleased in identifying a good form whether intended or not. 

Unfortunately, on this occasion this spontaneously manifested shallow dish fell apart after a few hours. Is a plate's structural flimsiness the reason why potters hardly make them I wondered to myself when I found it had surrendered to the forces of gravity by the evening. My next few attempts were better and actually yielded some bowls proper. I managed to get only one off the wheel however and it stands proudly drying now as my main achievement of the day. Although I'm also very proud of the small tower of clay, my collapses, twists and breakdowns all stacked there as a memento of the day's efforts. I also attempted the process of turning or trimming today. Not knowing anything more than to roll up a sausage of clay and use that to attach the pot to the wheel-head I couldn't figure out how to centre the darn thing. It was therefore a bit of a comedy. I hope Mr. Simon Leach has a video on this too! 

An optimistic Hatchling Potter out. 

(13/01/21) WEDNESDAY: 

Today was a day where LIFE got in the way of ART. Do you dear Reader loathe it when that happens too? In the tussle between these seemingly antagonistic, but actually symbiotic forces LIFE most definitely won out. 

Arising at 7AM with fresh intentions of being back on the wheel from about 11AM I began my day with one hour of meditation from 7:15-8:15AM which was followed by toast for breakfast. I then practised yoga and lifted some weights. Throwing at the wheel has been physically hard on my back as it's not a postural exercise my body is accustomed to. The clay kneading and centring is also beginning to fatigue my arm muscles. Fortunately yoga has been part of my daily routine for over a year and lifting moderately heavy weights at 5KG is something I do sporadically a couple of times a week or in all honesty sometimes no weeks at all. I mean who likes lifting heavy stuff repeatedly? My daily practice of yoga and occasional strength-work bodes well for the amount of potting I aspire to do over the coming weeks and months. After these demanding but satisfying morning activities I make headway to be downstairs for 10:15AM. At this time I had a meeting with my sole housemate and landlord. For the most part me and Robert get on famously and I've, for the most part, loved living here in Sheffield together with him. But today our meeting was somewhat protracted and quite unpleasant. Numerous factors went into the mix to create this cake of tensions bubbling up of which I won't go into specific details. The long and short of it was that we adjourned at closer to midday and I was left feeling emotionally discombobulated. 

This house meeting was the first of two scheduled social appointments making up my Wednesday – incredibly social then during the pandemic’s lockdowns. The second might have been the ideal distraction to take my mind off of this morning’s unpleasantness. At 13:00 I was going to rendezvous with a recently met acquaintance for a stroll and chat. This person is also an amateur potter and the proud owner of not only his own wheel but also a sizeable electric kiln. Other than this fellow Neil being a good person to go a-walking with I'm also interested in the possibility of firing some of my pots with his assistance. But sadly, these plans were scuppered by heavy rain and due to the National lockdown socialising outside was the only option for Neil and me to spend time together. So instead of getting some fresh air which is always an effective remedy I was stuck inside.  

Next best thing in this situation? My answer was to have lunch. After enjoying the reliably comforting activity of eating I watched Mr. Simon Leach's YouTube video on throwing cylinders. In this video the throwing process is broken down into seven stages. This instructional twenty-two minute video was ideal preparation to my now much anticipated daily session at the wheel. The wobbly state of my emotions were reflected in the unsteady, wobbly cylinders that were the only fruits of my throwing this day. Moreover, I feel that the natural intuition of yesterday was lost from over-analysing my technique and adhering too tightly to the instructions from Mr. Leach’s video. Such an approach is typical of my inherent tendencies. I had experienced the detrimental effect of such a mind-based, analytical approach to playing golf as a teenager. Hopefully with such an experience to draw upon I could largely avoid such behaviour with my potting... maybe, old habits die hard don’t they. 

 Anyway, today I threw more lumps of clay down within thirty-five minutes than I ever have before, nine to be exact (I know these numerical particulars because I was recording myself on my I-phone from start to end of this session). It makes for miserable watching and perhaps the awareness that I was being recorded was another factor that didn't propagate a feeling of naturalness and ease. It is this naturalness and ease that has pervaded my most enjoyable and consequently successful throwing sessions. As a complete newbie to the creative processes of making I wonder if this perceived natural easy feeling of ‘flow’ is the secret to inspired and consistent creativity.  

The results then from today were merely that the remaining supply of balled recycled clay and some more fresh stuff from the bag was converted into a wetter pile clay on the other side of my wheel. Regrettable but with a lot of soggy clay piled up from today's twists, collapses and tears there is ample opportunity to practice wedging and kneading. 

​

Today was a rough day but I'm not discouraged in the least. More homework on YouTube this evening. A video on trimming/turning by my new favourite YouTube star is required as there's a cup and bowl to trim, at least I can learn how to centre them and possibly avoid the comical occurrences of my first attempt. Nothing is fun on a potter's wheel if it isn't centred! Tomorrow is a fresh clay day. 

Hatchling potter down but not out.... 

14/01/20 THURSDAY: 

Today I didn't get on the wheel at all. After yesterday’s dismal throwing session I had modest intentions of spending a limited time throwing anyway but not to throw at all was a surprise. There was about 2KG of clay left from the 12.5KG bag I’d been using. This quantity would have been ideal for one throwing session and exhausting my first full bag of clay felt like a small landmark to gain, but alas I just didn't feel that it was a good idea today. It was then the trimming of a bowl and cup that I set my intentions upon though only for a short while. I had to face facts; today just wasn't going to be a wheel day. I would leave the helm unmanned this Thursday instead opting for first-mate duties.  

At the beginning of this week I had set expectations upon myself to be potting almost like a part-time job. Everyday for a few of hours in the morning and another couple in the afternoon. In actuality the days didn't work out in this structured manner. Perhaps being new to the way of life for the artist or maker I mistakenly thought that such a structure would be achievable and helpful. It is just this point of whether it is helpful or not that now interests me. I ponder this because although the actual hours potting were significantly less than I had intended beginning the week, this week nevertheless feels like a tremendous success. It feels like a week absolutely full to the brim with learning and development. For the first time in quite a while during these recent days I have felt my brain growing, straining, in the effort of absorbing, assimilating and then connecting brand new pieces of information. It feels akin to the process of learning a foreign language or new musical instrument. It is indicative of that very special mixture of mind and matter working together to achieve a desired result. This week I surely didn't get that desired result. I wanted to throw perfect cylinders, hundreds of them if possible! And not even one perfect cylinder. But what I did achieve was the absorption of lots of new information and the assimilation of several new processes. By connecting these two: Cognitive information with physical process, mind and body learning occurred and as reward there were some truly wonderful moments of creativity. That's deeply satisfying qualitatively rich stuff not to mention highly demanding therefore I'm unfazed about the seeming lack of quantitively recorded hours. No doubt in the plateau-stages of potting when the various elements of the making process are more familiar then these hours will count for more as working is accompanied by a clearer time/productivity ratio. At this stage though just surrendering to the process feels of primary importance. 

Surrendering is a powerful word for the average Westerner to penetrate to the depths of. Most Westerners when wanting to achieve something say “I'll get up early in the morning and get it done!”. The effort, the determination precedes and dominates over other qualities that can and should also be employed in the pursuit of an achievement. An Easterner would approach things very differently. For someone with a ‘less western mind’ the primary quality with which to approach a new endeavour might be right-timing, acceptance, equanimity or playfulness. Of course, energy and determination must be there otherwise nothing would happen but I wonder that we overdo it in the Western capitalist realm. An imbalance at the expense of realising and utilising the other ingredients for achieving any meaningful goal.  

Probably such musing is a very Western way of analysis and such reflections would be difficult for an Eastern attitude to grasp which is precisely why it's so very difficult to become aware of such things. Our habit patterns of thinking, speaking and doing are so entrenched and intrinsic to our experience of life.  

I'm quite convinced that I am individually a Westerner through and through. Perhaps, I hope pottery will teach me how to be a bit more Eastern. More than anything I’d like to learn how to enjoy and have fun, to be playful. Determination and endeavour come naturally, its engendering playfulness and fun that “I really need to work on”. Isn’t that a ridiculous sentence if read twice?! I’ve spent a year in Japan, over a year in India and several months in South-East Asia trying to get some of the Eastern attitude to rub-off on me and yet I still say things to myself just like: “I really must work harder on being more playful and having more fun”. Maybe I’m doomed to be always a fool.  

But I digress, back to today’s events: Instead of compressing myself onto the wheel I settled for a bit of Ram's head kneading in the basement. Again, even this simple but new process was a juicy appetiser for my brain to digest and for my hands, arms and whole body to physically complete. After kneading this clay out it was onto the task of clearing down my pop-up pottery studio, otherwise known as the 'front-room'. I'll be going away tomorrow morning to visit my partner in Cambridge and will stay there for four days and so the pop-up pottery will be removed to leave the front-room to be a social space once again. This process much like setting up took quite a lot of time. I've only done this once before meaning I’m still quite disorganised. Therefore all the cleaning and getting things orderly down into the basement took about an hour-and-a-half. What I took great delight in was a few calm moments towards the end of this clean-up to wash my wheel. Ever since I set eyes upon this old but lovely piece of craftsmanship and engineering I've been besotted and felt great affection towards it. After a lot of awkward hustle-and-bustle it was a beautiful and quiet moment to spend with her giving her the care rightly due. How well I've been served by her relentless revolutions these past few days! This process of throwing is undoubtedly the prime attractor for me towards the pottery game. I find the whole process wonderful, fascinating, charming, beautiful. 

With everything properly washed from clay-spray and smear. All tools tidied away down in the basement. I must admit I'm slightly relieved. This week had a lot of psychological time put into it. I must have subconsciously wondered several times during the Christmas and New Years break about how this new endeavour would work out. I had no job now, just the prospect of taking on potting at home to keep me occupied. And the whole scenario intensified by the perennial question in the back of my mind: Was this THE week that would be the start of something with real staying power in my life? Having learned even just a little about pottery I already really do hope it will be so. 

Hatchling Potter out and down to Cambridge. 

14/01/20 THURSDAY: 

Today I didn't get on the wheel at all. After yesterday’s dismal throwing session I had modest intentions of spending a limited time throwing anyway but not to throw at all was a surprise. There was about 2KG of clay left from the 12.5KG bag I’d been using. This quantity would have been ideal for one throwing session and exhausting my first full bag of clay felt like a small landmark to gain, but alas I just didn't feel that it was a good idea today. It was then the trimming of a bowl and cup that I set my intentions upon though only for a short while. I had to face facts; today just wasn't going to be a wheel day. I would leave the helm unmanned this Thursday instead opting for first-mate duties.  

At the beginning of this week I had set expectations upon myself to be potting almost like a part-time job. Everyday for a few of hours in the morning and another couple in the afternoon. In actuality the days didn't work out in this structured manner. Perhaps being new to the way of life for the artist or maker I mistakenly thought that such a structure would be achievable and helpful. It is just this point of whether it is helpful or not that now interests me. I ponder this because although the actual hours potting were significantly less than I had intended beginning the week, this week nevertheless feels like a tremendous success. It feels like a week absolutely full to the brim with learning and development. For the first time in quite a while during these recent days I have felt my brain growing, straining, in the effort of absorbing, assimilating and then connecting brand new pieces of information. It feels akin to the process of learning a foreign language or new musical instrument. It is indicative of that very special mixture of mind and matter working together to achieve a desired result. This week I surely didn't get that desired result. I wanted to throw perfect cylinders, hundreds of them if possible! And not even one perfect cylinder. But what I did achieve was the absorption of lots of new information and the assimilation of several new processes. By connecting these two: Cognitive information with physical process, mind and body learning occurred and as reward there were some truly wonderful moments of creativity. That's deeply satisfying qualitatively rich stuff not to mention highly demanding therefore I'm unfazed about the seeming lack of quantitively recorded hours. No doubt in the plateau-stages of potting when the various elements of the making process are more familiar then these hours will count for more as working is accompanied by a clearer time/productivity ratio. At this stage though just surrendering to the process feels of primary importance. 

Surrendering is a powerful word for the average Westerner to penetrate to the depths of. Most Westerners when wanting to achieve something say “I'll get up early in the morning and get it done!”. The effort, the determination precedes and dominates over other qualities that can and should also be employed in the pursuit of an achievement. An Easterner would approach things very differently. For someone with a ‘less western mind’ the primary quality with which to approach a new endeavour might be right-timing, acceptance, equanimity or playfulness. Of course, energy and determination must be there otherwise nothing would happen but I wonder that we overdo it in the Western capitalist realm. An imbalance at the expense of realising and utilising the other ingredients for achieving any meaningful goal.  

Probably such musing is a very Western way of analysis and such reflections would be difficult for an Eastern attitude to grasp which is precisely why it's so very difficult to become aware of such things. Our habit patterns of thinking, speaking and doing are so entrenched and intrinsic to our experience of life.  

I'm quite convinced that I am individually a Westerner through and through. Perhaps, I hope pottery will teach me how to be a bit more Eastern. More than anything I’d like to learn how to enjoy and have fun, to be playful. Determination and endeavour come naturally, its engendering playfulness and fun that “I really need to work on”. Isn’t that a ridiculous sentence if read twice?! I’ve spent a year in Japan, over a year in India and several months in South-East Asia trying to get some of the Eastern attitude to rub-off on me and yet I still say things to myself just like: “I really must work harder on being more playful and having more fun”. Maybe I’m doomed to be always a fool.  

But I digress, back to today’s events: Instead of compressing myself onto the wheel I settled for a bit of Ram's head kneading in the basement. Again, even this simple but new process was a juicy appetiser for my brain to digest and for my hands, arms and whole body to physically complete. After kneading this clay out it was onto the task of clearing down my pop-up pottery studio, otherwise known as the 'front-room'. I'll be going away tomorrow morning to visit my partner in Cambridge and will stay there for four days and so the pop-up pottery will be removed to leave the front-room to be a social space once again. This process much like setting up took quite a lot of time. I've only done this once before meaning I’m still quite disorganised. Therefore all the cleaning and getting things orderly down into the basement took about an hour-and-a-half. What I took great delight in was a few calm moments towards the end of this clean-up to wash my wheel. Ever since I set eyes upon this old but lovely piece of craftsmanship and engineering I've been besotted and felt great affection towards it. After a lot of awkward hustle-and-bustle it was a beautiful and quiet moment to spend with her giving her the care rightly due. How well I've been served by her relentless revolutions these past few days! This process of throwing is undoubtedly the prime attractor for me towards the pottery game. I find the whole process wonderful, fascinating, charming, beautiful. 

With everything properly washed from clay-spray and smear. All tools tidied away down in the basement. I must admit I'm slightly relieved. This week had a lot of psychological time put into it. I must have subconsciously wondered several times during the Christmas and New Years break about how this new endeavour would work out. I had no job now, just the prospect of taking on potting at home to keep me occupied. And the whole scenario intensified by the perennial question in the back of my mind: Was this THE week that would be the start of something with real staying power in my life? Having learned even just a little about pottery I already really do hope it will be so. 

Fledgling Potter out and down to Cambridge. 

21/01/2021 THURSDAY: 

Today was a better clay-day. I started off my clay endeavours by requesting to use my housemate's scales. This morning would be the first time I would weigh and ‘ball-up’ clay in exact weights of 1lb and 1 ½lb. To ‘ball-up’ is a potting term which simply refers to the process of weighing out specific weights of clay and then patting that measured lump of clay into a ball shape. The decision to ball- up this morning comes with a stronger commitment to honing my throwing skills. First and foremost by trying - for what feels like the hundredth time – to create some perfect cylinders which should reach a calculated height of 5 inches from 12 ounces of clay according to Mr. Simon Leach. However Mr. Simon Leach is an expert thrower so my balls will weigh 16 ounces which is equal to one pound. Its testament to the history and tradition of pottery that these old imperial measurements are still widely used and I hope such will be the case for many generations. To complete my task I sat myself down on the floor of my pop-up studio and began to wire through the stoneware clay from the second bag of 12.5KG (the clay suppliers use the metric system). Second bag! That's right dear reader; I have now potted my way through my first ever bag of clay. The beautiful thing about new clay is that it doesn't need to be kneaded and being an inexperienced handler of clay its reassuring just balling-up straight from the bag. After looking up the conversions from grams (metric system) to pounds (imperial system) I see that 450grams is approximately equal to one-pound. This information absorbed I began what was quite a satisfyingly sedentary task - the first of its kind that I've experienced thus far. I've heard other experienced potters grumble about this weighing and balling-up process however for me this morning it was quite pleasant. After about 30 minutes I had weighed out and balled-up around ten eleven one-pound lumps and four one-and-a-half pound lumps. From this process there was a pile of off-cuts that I was able to form one lump weighing two-pounds – brilliant stuff. I felt very satisfied to see all those neatly formed balls on two wooden boards. They looked enticing as if each one was just waiting to be thrown down onto the wheel. Little did theses shiny, happy balls know that after my throwing attempts they would not be transformed into happy, shiny bowls or mugs but instead end up as part of a mushy, wet and messy mound of clay to be subsequently recycled tomorrow. Ever the pessimist ‘SIGH’. 

This task completed I moved onto wedging and kneading about 2KG of clay. After about twenty minutes I could stand no more of the physical labour and monotony – not to mention the freezing cold temperature that pervades the basement where I've set up my clay-recycling station. I now rather spontaneously decided to slice the clay into about six pieces. The reason for this being to see how effective my kneading was in removing air bubbles and lumps from the clay. To my delight one after the other of these surface-intersections when exposed and held up for inspection proved to be smooth and sound. Satisfied that my kneading was effective I then intended to recombine these six pieces into one mass again. After all what else would I do with these six individual lumps of freshly recycled clay? Then a light-bulb moment borne from my initiation into the process of balling-up: Why not collect up my dissected soundly kneaded pieces of clay and weigh them out into one-pound lumps? And so it happened that I had not only one- pound balls of clay fresh from a new bag but also some one-pound balls of clay that had been recycled three times over. To see how they compare on the wheel will surely be a thrillingly interesting exercise. I realise writing this now that perhaps the variables involved in the ceramic process probably get much more interesting than what recycled clay versus new clay feels like, but for me this was riveting discovery. By this point a cup of tea was tempting me and moreover I was aware that soon my bicycle was due to be dropped off for its annual MOT. So I considered calling it a good morning's work and clocking-off but with all those shiny, happy balls just sitting around I couldn't resist a quick throwing session. After yesterday's struggle I now felt in good spirits again – perhaps I should begin all my clay days by kneading and balling-up! I threwdown thrice and got one piece off the wheel - this small success would prove to be a whispering harbinger of the afternoon's revelation. 

After returning from being out for around two hours while awaiting my bike to be finished by the mechanic I came back to the studio feeling fresh from some time outdoors under today’s gloriously blue skies. There was nothing else for it but to throw more. I threwdown about three times and each time met with the same point of collapse that had now plagued my efforts for some days. I cut through the last cylinder and saw that the walls were much too thin just above the base. While looking at this particular cylinder’s exposed cross-section there was a precious calm moment of reflection. I would describe this momentary lucidity as an intuitive revelation; it felt like the slow turning of a screw somewhere within my searching mind, my mind looking for an answer, a solution to theses repeated failures at achieving my objective. I decided to take a break as my back was aching and my frustrations building. And then at that moment of surrender, just as intending to take an interval it clicked. The pot I managed to get off the wheel in the morning had been thrown without over-thinking, over-analysing. For the past couple of days while at the wheel throwing I had been keeping the lessons of my YouTube gurus circulating in my mind: “lots of lubrication, inside finger just above the outside, squeeze up from the base, careful of the rim at the end of the pull”. These critiques cycled around-and-around my mind; went on-and-on as my repeating narrative. But the lovely form that I had successfully thrown and removed from the wheel-head had been produced by an empty focus; no words, reminders or objectives cluttering up the mind. It was this empty mind that was able to react appropriately to the ever-changing dynamic process that is presented to every potter who sits at the wheel and begins her or his throwing. It is this mind that knows every piece of clay is different and every situation unique. I've read so many times how production throwers can throw the same shape over and over, hundreds maybe thousands of times and not get the slightest bit bored. This is because when that wheel starts spinning and that clay starts transforming under the touch of hands, caresses of fingers, straining of sinews and inspirations of mind there is a mesmerizingly dynamic transformative process underway. A mind that is reciting the ‘top-tips’ of an instructor is not fit to adapt and flow with such a process as is necessary for success. It is too cluttered up with words, there’s no room for the intuitive responses that an artist must wield in her work. When I had first started throwing without having watched any instructional videos or having studied the step-by step throwing stages there were notes to hold in my mind. And it was this so-called ignorance that meant initial success. Alas over-analysis is my natural tendency, paralysis-analysis can set in. I had fallen into the same trap that had ensnared me in the past. 

After this powerful and calmly thrilling revelation I took my customary tea-break despite wanting to try again straight away. Twenty minutes or so later I went back to the wheel and threwdown another lump. I started with intentions to throw a cylinder and then after opening the clay out I felt like throwing a bowl. And that's what I did. Why? Because bowls are more fun. It seems I’d lost the fun part of throwing completely for the last forty-eight hours. Now I had found it again and now the bowl that I threw and successfully removed from the wheel was by far my best yet. It had the attractive defined curviness on its hips just above the base that I had tried to create unsuccessfully on all previous attempts. I was delighted. I wasn't thinking about what I should be doing with my fingers or how fast I should have the wheel spinning or how often I should wet the clay I was just throwing now. No analysing mind just instinct and intuitive response to the clay. I was bottoming-out pots better than ever. I wasn’t losing the pots where I had been on so many occasions beforehand. 

Now of-course there is a balance to be struck. For example, I wouldn't have got the pots off the wheel-head so well today if I hadn't seen how to do so on YouTube. Therefore study and analysis are necessary. The key is to know ourselves. If I know of a tendency to over-analyse then I can remedy that with regular checks on this habit-pattern. Conversely for someone that tends towards intuition, providing they have an awareness of this tendency then it can be balanced by conscious efforts to study and hone technical skill. There's no shortcut to such self-knowledge - at least I haven't found one - and I will almost definitely go through this learning process again, and again and again. But I've had a number of life experiences that have somewhat accustomed me with this process. There are hurdles and there is the surmounting of those hurdles. Today was a day of surmounting. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but one thing is for sure: I'll be back on the wheel getting covered in more wet clay. 

HP out.  

22/01/2021 FRIDAY: 

I decided to begin this clay day by wedging and kneading. Without a sufficient quantity of clay to recycle I decided to open a new bag of clay just so I could wedge and knead to start my day vigorously and make a physical connection with the clay. This new bag was a Terracotta clay. This was my first-time handling Terracotta in its raw form and it's only the third kind of clay that I've handled at all. 

I untwisted the length of wire keeping the heavy-duty plastic bag sealed, unwrapped about a third of the brown rectangular mass and wired through to take a lump of about 3KG from the top of its total 12.5KG. It was immediately apparent that this terracotta, perhaps all terracotta was markedly stiffer than the stoneware clay I’d been using. This created an experienced connection to something I've heard from other amateur potters and read in the books of professional ones: The type of clay you use significantly determines the shapes produced during throwing.  

The wedging of the terracotta this morning was deeply satisfying. Learning from Mr. Simon Leach wedging is a process that consists of a routinized process: First is splitting the clay lump in half, then picking up one half and slamming it down upon the other, flipping the combined mass over and slapping it all over before flipping it again and cutting it in half again to then begin the process all over again. After doing this wedging procedure about ten times I wired through to split the clay in half for the last time and at this point began shaping the halves into rectangles. Now I would begin my fast-improving Ram's head kneading. After the positive and encouraging results from yesterday's inspection of my kneaded clay I went about the kneading with a new confidence and so after ten minutes of vigorous kneading I felt satisfied that when the time came, I would have some lovely Terracotta clay to throwdown and be able to throw with confidence.  

Up from the cold basement and into the warmer front-room. I assessed the studio at a glance and began setting up for my morning throwing session. Having still half-a-dozen one-pound balls ready to go it didn't take long before I was sat down on the wheel or ‘at the helm’ as I liked to think of it. After three throwdowns I was ready for a tea break. These initial throwdowns didn't go well. Centring was okay - though I still can't figure out how to centre the clay truly perfectly. With no teacher to guide me I suppose I have to be content to centre it as best I can and no more. YouTube unfortunately can’t abet me in such a delicate point as improving my centring from ‘workable’ to ‘good’. After the clay was workably centred I was back to the exacting drill of throwing cylinders. Three times I made the same mistake. Somehow again and again I would twist the clay or move my fingers unevenly at the beginning of the second or third lift and lose the piece. Or I would catch the rim of the pot. Or I would forget to consolidate the rim of the pot after a lift and lose the top. Or this, or that – there is a great deal that can go wrong for a beginner at the potter's wheel. 

 

Quickly humbled from yesterday evening's success I took a tea-break and watched a couple of YouTube videos on throwing. After some lacklustre viewing I changed to a video on trimming which was actually very helpful. This video would give me the pointers that I would implement later on in the afternoon. I went back to throw just a few more times and after losing more pots in the same manner as before I began using what clay was left at the base of the ruined cylinders to throw with. This was good value and I even got a little bowl off the wheel which saved my mood and allowed me to set out for a lunchtime walk with palatable spirits. 

Coming back to the wheel about ninety minutes later after a walk and lunch I was ready to do battle again. With renewed energy and patience it went better than the morning but I was still struggling. I was however learning at least. I started consistently cutting the pots that twisted down the middle and trying to understand what went wrong each time. Moreover, I continued with throwing the small lumps I could salvage from the base of these attempted cylinders. Overall, I felt that I was progressing. After about an hour I had used all the one-pound balls and decided as a crescendo to throw a heavier ball. I decided then I would attempt to make a big bowl. In reality I ended up with a big planter with a big belly. I was really happy with the overall effect and it was the biggest thing I'd tried to remove from the wheel, and try I did. After much awkwardness with the wire and hands and even somehow the implementation of a pencil it eventually came off the wheel and made its way safely onto a board. But its time as a big-bellied planter was short-lived. After my initial excitement at the thought of having such a big and comely piece to boast of it drooped over on one side. Too top-heavy perhaps and a belly a bit too big. It really was a fluke and not competently thrown so I wasn’t too disappointed. If I had intended to throw just that form and it drooped and collapsed, I would have been more effected. I wonder what’s the meaning of that? The resulting reality is the same after all. I suppose if intentionally thrown then the form would have been ‘my form’, I did it, it was my achievement which meant a happy ego. As it came out that way unintentionally it was just something that happened, I had less ownership over it, it was ‘less mine’. But I digress as I like to do especially on any psycho-philosophical detours! 

After the big throwdown I was still feeling fresh and now became excited about the ‘turning’ or ‘trimming’ process (as far as I can tell these two terms are used interchangeably and mean the same thing in potting terms). I set up all the pieces that had made it from the wheel onto boards and were now dried to the leather-hard stage (the ‘leather-hard’ stage is where the clay is firm enough to hold its shape even while coarsely handled but soft enough to be cut with a knife or trimming tool). After throwing down approximately 50 lumps of clay up to this point I had a boastful seven pieces that had made it to the trimming stage. 

The YouTube video proved to be just the thing I needed for this process and I largely got good results. My initial spectacular failure at trimming came from not centring satisfactorily but deciding to go ahead with trying to trim anyway, this approach predictably bore disastrous results. If something is not centred on the potter’s wheel then magic cannot occur, instead chaos reigns supreme. This second attempt, thanks to an informed method of centring went much better. This method prescribed for beginners involves holding a pencil at a fixed distance away from the pot while it rotates on the wheel. Where the pencil touches the pot it leaves a line. Where the pencil has marked determines which way the piece needs to move to get closer to being centred. I followed these steps and all those subsequent gleaned from my intent study of a YouTube video until I had a beautiful foot-ring on a small bowl - well it was beautiful in my eyes. During trimming the next piece, thoroughly buoyed and bursting with enthusiasm now, I tried another tip I had picked up. I had seen that by tapping the base of the pot one could determine by feel and sound how much clay remained at the base so determining how much clay could be trimmed away. I tapped and all sounded well so I trimmed some more and then in an instant - a hole! A conspicuous black void where before there was a beige something. Sure, I knew to tap the bowl but I had no idea what a thick base sounded like compared to a thin one. In this instance the noise was indicating barely any clay left at the base and an experienced potter wouldn't have trimmed away another millimetre. Oh well it wasn’t my favourite bowl which was a consolatory thought. My favourite one I had prudently kept aside until I had tried the process on at least a few other forms. For my third attempt at trimming I nominated a small cup. This attempt ended rather badly. A severely lopsided foot-ring resulted, probably as I rushed the centring process this time. The last piece I tried was a success indeed and I was quite happy with it.

So there it is; another clay day over and more lessons learned. Tomorrow is Saturday and I'm hopeful that I can throw that elusive perfect cylinder. During my evening's meditation a key piece of advice came back to my mind which I have neglected to heed the past few days. Phil Rogers puts these words in bold in his book: 

'Your throwing should always be inwards' 

My throwing had not been strictly inwards recently. Could this be the mantra to see great cylinder success tomorrow...? We'll find out tomorrow during another clay day. 

HP out. 

Saturday 23/01/21: 

Today I woke up and really didn't feel like getting on the wheel. On Friday evening I had an upsetting phone conversation which had continued to affect me this morning. So as not to spurn the entire day regarding potting I decided to do some good old wedging and kneading. This got me moving, loosened me up and helped shift the prevailing morning’s mood. I therefore continued with the clay by weighing and balling-up all of the remaining stoneware clay. This felt like a big event. Having only just worked through my first ever bag of clay, now I was weighing and balling-up the totality of the second bag. It took about two hours to complete these activities making today a very laid-back clay day. Tomorrow is Sunday and my scheduled day off from the pop-up studio to which I will strictly adhere. 

24/01/21 SUNDAY: 

Writing this on Monday evening as my Sunday was strictly a non-clay day (that’s right this restriction even extends to writing my Hatchling Potter journal). This discipline of disengaging has been a useful attitude for me in the past. Making space for a complete break from any activity predominating in one’s life - which for most people is usually work – is necessary and beneficial. Beneficial not only to the other subordinate aspects of one’s life such as socialising, good food and good exercise etc. But also to bring greater engagement and results to the predominating activity – usually work. The mantra “Fully disengage to fully re-engage” sums up this approach nicely. Having said that achieving this separation from clay yesterday wasn't necessarily easy. Considering that my studio is at home, that I'm somewhat obsessed with clay and that there’s nothing else to do in these restrictive times I was tempted on several occasions to “just do a little bit”. It has in fact got to the point where when I sit down to meditate in the evenings numerous thoughts, ideas, and plans come into my mind about pottery and ceramics. ‘How about this glaze!’, ‘What about a chequered pattern?’, ‘That would be a beautiful combination of colours and forms.... Etc. Etc.’ Somewhat worse than these distracting thoughts is that sometimes while meditating or when I'm lying in bed before falling asleep at night I see the whirling, rotating, spinning motion of the potter's wheel. It can be quite disorientating and brings on symptoms of heady wooziness until I open my eyes and fix my gaze somewhere. For all these reasons today, or rather yesterday was a completely clay free day. Mission accomplished now let’s move on to Monday.  

25/01/21 MONDAY: 

With all those one-pound balls of stoneware clay from the labours of Saturday what else was there to do but throw today. And so today I threw more than on any other. This was primarily connected to the intentions I set for myself during all the thinking about potting on Sunday. I realised that I was getting too hung up on throwing perfect cylinders and because of this not enjoying my time on the wheel. As is my tendency I had set unrealistic goals for myself and my failure to meet them produced a familiar frustration. But I had learned from my frequent observation of this behaviour in the past. I therefore decided to make absolutely sure that I enjoyed throwing as priority number one, attempts to throw perfect cylinders this Monday would be side-lined. And so I threw bowls all day. Bowls, bowls and more bowls were formed underneath my hands and fingers. All different forms of bowls from the same one-pound balls of clay. I got eight bowls off the wheel-head and every form was different – I should confess here that I tried to make them all the same! The best of the day in my eyes was the first throwdown which took place at the late hour of eleven-thirty AM or so. Later because I couldn't get myself out of bed until almost nine. An hour of meditation, thirty minutes of Yoga and then breakfast saw me begin with clay quite late indeed. I had checked Phil Rogers' book 'Throwing Pots' and glanced back at a Simon Leach video before sitting down at the helm and to my amazement when I began trying to recall the steps for throwing a bowl in sequence my mind went totally blank. I couldn't remember how to progress from the ash-tray shape after 'going-in' on the clay. So I ended up just making it up with the bits I could fuzzily recall and my own instincts and voila! The best bowl of the entire day was produced. In total I spent about two-and-a-half hours at the wheel and made approximately fifteen attempts at throwing bowls. I had two goes at throwing a cylinder – it didn't go well.

The bowl at the back of these four survivors is the one I ranked 1st. One of the others was the second that I threw and so here again a good form was borne from primarily instinctive throwing. Loosely holding onto the direction that 'throwing should always be inwards' helped me today as well. With the usual errors of: Not having proper wheel speed, pulling up erratically and dodgy centring being the main culprits. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: There's really so much that can go wrong for a beginner at the potter’s wheel. I also made a number of the bowls much too high a few times. Such was the profundity of my ignorance that I couldn't think logically enough to recall how to widen them thereby reducing their height. I instead felt that nothing could be done about the excessive height and lack of width and defeatedly removed these tall narrow bowls from the wheel while wishing they were different.  

For the first time today I practiced removing forms from the wheel and getting them onto boards every time I had an opportunity to do so. Even if I didn't like the bowl I would still carefully remove it so it could be appraised and judged at the end of the day. Of the eight bowls that came off the wheel however half were poorly thrown and misshapen and so only four are being left to dry overnight. I'm actually really pleased about these four as I feel they are not only attractive but also structurally sound. This satisfaction is somewhat offset because while throwing today the clay was deciding the shape and form of my bowls, not me. I was a helpless spectator as these forms appeared but nevertheless, I was a spectator that learned something from this clay performance. According to my time-logging app I was with the clay for four hours and nineteen minutes today. My longest and most fruitful clay-day so far. I'd therefore be tempted to say that the disengage to re-engage approach has worked out just right and I’m still feeling fresh this evening despite the intensity of today. Feeling shiningly optimistic for tomorrow.  

A Hatchling Potter - soon to be dreaming about spinning bowls - out. 

26/01/2021 TUESDAY: 

I awoke this morning feeling fresh and alert. With the morning routine completed I was down into the basement to knead up the remains of the twisted, uneven, collapsed bowls and cylinders of yesterday. Only about 2KG of the clay was dry enough for this and so after just half-an-hour I was ready to start throwing. This quick turnaround was welcome as the basement was particularly cold this morning. Overnight temperatures below zero are forecast here in Sheffield for the next seventy-two hours. A symbiosis between myself and the clay has been growing stronger with each passing day and the cold temperatures prevailing in the basement have produced a rather wonderfully strange phenomena which has given me food for reflection on the relationship between the ‘maker’ and what is made. The phenomenon that inspired these reflections is that during kneading my clay in the cold basement several drips of snot - the clear liquid kind of snot, not the thick green stuff - will usually fall from the tip of my nose onto, and so actually into, the lump of clay I'm kneading. It feels symbolic in a way that my cares and labours are resulting in a little bit of my corporeal matter being introduced to and becoming part of my clay. I have been caused by observing this occurrence repeat itself several times to reflect that a finished handmade product has been touched, shifted, cut, weighed and manipulated tenfold by the maker. There is then a very intimate human element imbedded and imbibed into the very essence of any handcrafted items. In this case pertaining to me and the clay I’m working with a very physically apparent connection has been made. My physical substance has become part of the clay’s physical substance. Though perhaps if I ever get into a position of selling any of my bowls I won't use that as an advertisement. “Yes Madam and there's even some of my very own mucus mixed in with the clay that composes the bowl your now holding”. 

After clay preparation in the basement I felt nicely warmed-up and ready for expressing myself creatively through throwing. In the pop-up pottery before taking up the helm I reorganised the space which I had left somewhat messy from yesterday evening’s desertion. I wanted everything to be in good order before beginning as today I had an exciting assignment to fulfil: This was to throw some cylinders and photograph them from several angles. A very encouraging and generous local potter had set this task for me via the medium of email which during times of enforced isolation provided renewed enthusiasm and filled me with gratitude. I had been advised to contact this person by someone in the NPA and on this advice sent out a hopeful email on Friday evening. Therein I requested direction on how to proceed with my throwing. To give some context to my progress I also briefly summarised what I was attempting to produce at the potter’s wheel. I had received a reply to my introductory email yesterday and my new guide had asked to see photos along with measurements of the cylinders I had been forming. Therefore this week I was joyfully duty-bound to throw at least some cylinders today. Notwithstanding this cylinder mission I decided to start the day throwing bowls and try the cylinders later. This approach had it’s inception in thinking that by throwing bowls first I would build momentum and confidence at the wheel. As it turned out this morning was to be a stubbornly frustrating one at the helm. At about two PM when I stopped for lunch I had gotten absolutely nothing off of the wheel. Though as a consolation I had captured some photos of the unsuccessful cylinders I’d thus far attempted. These images I hoped could potentially provide some identifiable indications of my mistakes and detrimental tendencies while throwing for the analysis of my remote teacher.​

My time-log app shows that I was on the wheel throwing from 11:01 – 11:57 and then again from 12:45 – 13:38. So at this point of the day just before lunch I had been intensely throwing for approximately two hours. I was moderately devastated that I hadn't got anything off of the wheel in this seemingly vast expanse of time. If being very detailed it should be stated that I actually did get a bowl onto a board at the beginning of the second hour. Though crucially in the transfer from wheel-head to board the bowl lost its symmetrical shape by sagging under the weight of it’s top-heavy form. To remedy this, I tried a trick I had seen on YouTube suggested by Mr. Simon Leach. As ever this expert potter had made this bowl 'jiggling' trick look easy and after the execution of this ‘bowl jiggle’ his bowl returned to it's perfect symmetry. When I tried, my bowl collapsed. So it came to pass that two hours of throwing bore nothing but two mighty lumps of wet clay on the table beside me. All the thoughtfully prepared one-pound balls had seemingly met with a sad fate. Excruciating when so much promise for their majestic transformation had prevailed this morning. 

Feeling somewhat lost I set off for my afternoon walk which was usually a tonic for any pottery related woes. It worked its magic once again today and I came back to the homestead feeling quite fine. My mood was reflected in some positive results on the wheel. The afternoon session from 14:59 to 16:38 yielded two bowls and wonderfully a pretty good cylinder. I was really in the zone while pulling up the clay walls of this particular cylinder. It’s an amazing feeling to be in this ‘zone’. There is an intensity in this state that forms a firm anchoring point upon and into the present moment. If one has the right awareness in this state then - for some time at least - consciousness can be rooted and maintained in this state of presence. Whether this intense participation in the present moment lasts five minutes or five hours the feeling of it is not easily forgotten.  

More practically it had definitely helped that during my lunch-break I had rewatched a video of Simon Leach throwing cylinders. This revision meant I could easily remember the different steps to successful cylinder throwing at the wheel. The importance of keeping one’s throwing angling inwards at all times featured in my awareness alongside the cylinder-methodology. For the pretty good cylinder to appear everything had to come together and it did. It was heady stuff and after I had got the cylinder off the wheel and onto a board I felt really high. And did I get some photos of it to include in my ‘progress report’ email? Did I ever! Despite this cylinder-success being the exception to the rule I’ve always been hell-bent on making myself look better than I actually am and so photos were taken and sent to my benevolent teacher. I was tired by this time but feeling so in the zone I attempted another cylinder, it twisted or folded – I did something wrong. But that was okay. I've emailed pictures of the failed and successful cylinders this evening, so perhaps a fair representation of my throwing skills will be transmuted. 

11:01 – 11:57 

12:45 – 13:38 

14:59 – 16:38 

20:02 – 20:57 (WRITING BLOG) 

TOTAL 4HR 21M  

Explanatory note: Above is a summary of my hours working with clay for the day. From now on this will be a regular feature of this journal. I hope it may give some indication of how much time it can take a beginner to progress in pottery. Not to mention being a useful tool for maintaining a structured practice, monitoring self-discipline, and generating self-motivation. 

27/01/21 WEDNESDAY: 

Today provided me with a ‘Eureka Moment’ and like most of life's such moments it was a realisation of something so obvious that one can hardly believe that this vital piece of knowledge had remained elusive for so long. The clay-day started with wedging and kneading in the freezing cold basement. Only one lump of the three clay towers of failed attempts from yesterday's throwing had dried sufficiently to wedge and knead. Once again therefore I wasn't in the basement for long. Including some tidying up and preparation around the studio my time-log app tells me that after just forty-four minutes (from 09:57 to 10:41), I was clocking off for a tea break. Feeling sluggish and irritable, both somewhat familiar morning moods I didn't want to get on the wheel before the comforting warmth of a milky cup of tea. In this regard I'm usually a Rooibos boy but this morning it was PG tips with soy milk. Oh yes bring on the caffeine hit! Coffee in my case is only prescribed in emergency situations.  

After looking futilely for some useful videos on throwing bowls while drinking tea I brought myself into the studio and had occupied the helm by five-past-eleven. It was this session that would provide the beautiful Eureka moment. Not feeling altogether happy this morning I made the decision that today should be about fun. Having fun throwing would be the primary objective and perhaps it was this playful attitude that gave rise to the first pot coming off the wheel being a fat-bellied little thing with plenty of character. This spontaneous and fun-born form prompted the idea of trying to throw a jug. I had not tried to throw this form before and on a normal throwing session wouldn’t have considered it but today was different. Today was about having fun at the wheel and so I thought “A jug, why not!”.  

I turned to the relevant chapter in 'Throwing Pots' and put the book wedged open at the relevant pages on the mantle above to my left. The book in this position was close enough to see but far enough to stay clean and dry from any clay splashes. After centering and then going into the next lump of clay I inspected the diagrams on the pages more carefully and saw that the first stage was throwing a tall cylinder. Now, if it had not been for yesterday's late victory that would have ruled out throwing a jug as being fun – I wouldn't have been able to make it past move 1. But thanks to yesterday evening's success I proceeded with cautious confidence. I went into and widened out the clay, coned it into a volcano shape and took a moment, a deep breath in… and out to prepare for the first lift. It would be on this impending lift that the Eureka moment hit me and reader its message was something so obvious that when you hear of it you'll probably think something like “Oh this fellow is a simpleton, what a bore to read the words of such a person” and stop reading these journal entries immediately. Nevertheless I will proceed with as much honesty and clarity as is possible in describing how events from this point unfolded. As I did the first pull which felt no different to those that had gone before it. It was a good lift however with good even speed and consistent pressure from the base right to the top of the pot. Yet I knew that, like on most of my other first pulls I had thinned out the clay too much in the middle compared to the bottom and top sections of the pot. The area between one third up the pot and one third from the top of the pot was too thin. I had again squeezed too hard and thinned the clay walls disproportionately in this section and so made the form precariously weak above a thick base and liable to collapse underneath a heavy rim.   

Now I looked at the shape of the pot that had been created by this pull as if for the first time. I looked in the mirror set up on the back corner of my splash tray and saw the pot as it is pictured above. A sort of 8-shape. The middle was pushed in. And then the words came “I'm pushing in too hard with my outside finger, I'm squeezing the clay too hard in that part of the pot!”. It was tremendous as I realized how blindingly obvious this was just by looking at the profile of the pot. I marveled and marveled at this question: ‘How hadn't I realized this before and saved myself days of frustration?’ I tentatively, excitedly set about doing the second pull to test my hypothesis but already feeling that I knew what the outcome would be. The hypothesis stood up as did the pot as physical proof of the hypothesized solution. I felt like a theoretical physicist that had just received laboratory results confirming her theory to be accurate. This had been the habitual error I had been committing. Again and again which repeatedly resulted in my demise under the callous authority of the potter’s tool and material.  

Now of-course there are more than just this one error in my throwing. Indeed the honing of a practical skill could be described as the process of eradicating one error after another so that progressively one reaches closer and closer to perfection. I am still a hatchling but nevertheless this was a forward step, a progress, an advancement towards fledgling-hood. I was now in this moment so excited by my revelation that I lifted a third time, with which a very satisfactory cylinder resulted. I bellied out the bottom, still excited, and attempted to follow the diagrams from the book displayed on the mantle. But here somehow I became mentally blocked as I tried to move further. It seems ludicrous to say such a thing but I just couldn't get my mind around how to create the jug-shape in spite of the pictures showing how to do this being right in front me. I still at this moment don't know why this was so. Could it be a providential rite of passage that no man can throw a jug on the first try? Or on a less grand scale: Whether after nothing but cylinders and bowls for seven days my grey matter just couldn't switch to comprehending a different shape. But whatever the case may be the result was that I had to settle for a bellied-out pot.. sort of thing. This final form though wasn't important. The revealing of my prevailing fatal throwing error was. I felt elated, so much so that I couldn't resist throwing another clay ball down onto the wheel-head to further demonstrate my revelation's validity. The revelation stood up again as another fine cylinder resulted; proud, straight, tall. At this point it was time for a celebratory snack and then onto a joyful walk through the nearby park.  

After a longer walk than usual I was back to the wheel an hour-and-a-half later clocking in at one fifty-five. Renewed physically and still feeling buoyant I threw a little jug which was the best pot of the day. Certainly it's a dumpy little thing that only a Mother could love and it's Mother (me), does indeed love it. For the first time I also was able to put a pouring lip on it. 

I threw a few more pieces including more forms with bellies. After a few failed attempts at more jugs I defaulted back to the bowl form. On this bowl I pressed a straight-edge throwing rib onto it’s side while supporting the clay walls from the inside with the length of my fingers. This made a pleasing ‘V’ shape. As a last throwdown (now at the end of another one hour of intensive throwing) I slammed two pounds of clay onto my wheel-head. It was the excitement of a new form being achievable that engendered such audacity in me. Thoughts of throwing a big jug were tantalizing me now. But alas the clay cares not for human passions and it went badly. I barely got it centered, really struggling with the beast. After days of just one pound balls this two pound ball felt enormous. I eventually got it centered okay and tried to throw the tall balanced cylinder which could then be manipulated into a jug. On the bellying out the clay collapsed. Considering the clay was somewhat off centre and my fatigue it was the most likely outcome. Unaffected I vacated the helm to finish off the clay-day by wedging and kneading the clay that had dried out sufficiently from yesterday. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

Intentions for tomorrow are a morning at the helm followed by the tidy-down day so the pop-up pottery is no longer and the front-room lives again. 

HP out. 

11:04 – 12:12 (1h 8m) 

13:55 – 14:58 (1h 3m) 

16:26 – 16:59 (33m) 

17:22 – 18:10 (48m) JOURNALING 

TOTAL – 4H 16M  

28/01/21 THURSDAY: 

So according to my time-log app I spent one hour and twenty-eight minutes dismantling, tidying and cleaning away all things pottery from the front room. This operation was definitely smoother than tidying down exactly two weeks ago. Again, my tools were dried and cleaned and my wheel also got some loving care as I took the time to sponge down the clay-caked splash-tray and underneath the wheel-head. Nothing exciting to report then other than a clear front-room and a corner of the basement occupied with all things pottery other than the pottery wheel itself. The past nine days have been a tremendous clay adventure. I feel in equal measures proud of myself for maintaining a persistently good-humoured approach, grateful to the pottery Gods and grateful again to have had the opportunity to do it. After a long weekend in Cambridge I'll be back in the pop-up pottery to do it all again.  

HP out. 

10:57 – 12:25 (1h 28m) 

TOTAL – 1H 28M 

03/02/21 WEDNESDAY: 

Not much today. Low energy and it was enough to get down into the basement to wedge, knead and then ball-up about 10KG of terracotta clay - I'll possibly throw with it later this week. It must be ‘later this week’ as I’m currently prevented from throwing until Friday. My housemate Robert has a guest staying in the front room - Don't they know that's my pop-up pottery!? Saying that in jest as I’m really grateful that I can turn the front-room into a pop-up pottery at all. 

Due to these inhibiting circumstances I’ve been thinking about making my own twisted cut-off wire from wooden toggles and fishing line. And who else would have inspired and outlined such a home-project but the legendary Simon Leach. The rub is I don't have an angle-grinder which is an essential tool for making the grooves in the wooden handle to then tie the fishing-line around. After being turned away from the local hardware store that don't have an angle-grinder either I've been thinking of alternative ways to do it with a drill. Tomorrow could be interesting.  

HP back home in Sheffield and getting ready for some potting.  

12:02 – 13:16 (1h 14m) 

TOTAL 1H 14M 

04/02/21: THURSDAY 

Rest Day. 

TOTAL 0H 0M 

05/02/21: FRIDAY 

Today was a proper clay day and thank goodness for that. After a weeks hiatus it was a very good feeling and something of a relief to get back on the wheel to throw and see that I could still actually do it! I hadn't forgot, everything still worked. Clay + Water = Fun.  

On Wednesday evening I felt so exhausted, more exhausted than I can remember feeling for some time. I therefore decided Thursday would be a ‘duvet day'; and I did a pretty good job of fulfilling those aspirational restrictions on my movement. Consequently, today was an energetic welcome back to the pop-up pottery studio. 

This was possible as Robert's house guest departed Thursday evening. I wasted little time this morning and cracked on with my morning routine from about seven AM. By ten I was down in the basement collecting up the various bits to get the studio up and running. The first task was to shake off the 5.5 X 3.5M tarpaulin outside. It had plenty of dried clay on it which wouldn't have been welcome as airborne dust on the carpets or furniture. Clay is really quite extraordinary stuff and the novice potter quickly learns something of its manifold incarnations. This dried dust stage is so far my least favourite, I have yet to deal with this substance extensively but understand that most potters have need of a face-mask during some processes to prevent inhaling unhealthy quantities of airborne mud. This shaking-off done I placed the huge tarpaulin sheet underneath the wheel and then spread it over everything within its flailing reach. Next all tubs, tools, tables and of course clay could be brought in and put in its assigned place. The set-up is certainly basic and I could wish for much more in the way of studio layout but this pottery game is only as complicated as one chooses to make it. The right attitude is undoubtedly the most important piece of equipment. The wrong attitude will ever and anon be finding dissatisfaction and consequently excuses to 'not do'.  

Everything being setup within forty minutes I moved onto the necessary job that I was slightly nervous about: Turning and trimming the pots produced from last week's efforts. The nervousness will likely be a familiar feeling for other amateur potters. This is because when throwing one has nothing more than a lump of wet clay. This wet lump of clay becomes a bowl or a jug or a bottle during the throwing process. If things go wrong at this stage - provided one hasn't invested a very great deal of time in the throwing - there's no great regrets. But now, at the turning/trimming stage, the potter has chosen his best forms for refinement. Moreover, after this trimming/turning stage there is no more alteration of the form; if a mistake is made now then the form is ruined.  

Painfully this trimming endeavour wasn't to be a good start to my first day back in the studio at the helm. I struggled to centre the initial pieces on the wheel-head and found trimming very awkward. I spoiled three pieces which now would not make it to a bisque-firing, disappointing only a little as wisely I started on the smaller more rudimentary forms. After a short break I moved onto some of the better forms. These pots were from a different batch and the clay at they’re bases was too soft for effective trimming. Consequently, as I applied the trimming tool to the pot’s base to trim a foot-ring the whole piece would pull-up and jump off the wheel-head. This then meant beginning the protracted process of recentring the piece. I tired of this frustrating lack of progress quickly and on reflection this submission was quite advantageous as I was messing up my favoured pots with consummate proficiency. Indeed, this was only my third time trimming and so naturally it was still very much an exercise of learning. I just hope when I return to this part of the process tomorrow I will be better. And there's good reason for hope. The afternoon sessions of today witnessed a triumphant return to throwing the all-important cylinder form with ground-breaking consistency. It is with this momentum and warmed potting muscles that I remain hopeful to return to trimming with more aplomb.  

But, before recounting in detail the throwing sessions of this afternoon I have a potter-to-potter social encounter to share. Today at one PM I went to meet a friend of Robert's that I had met and talked with about pottery in August – before I had even touched a piece of clay! Myself and Neil had been trying to meet-up for a couple of weeks and this Friday our ducks had finally lined up. We went for a pleasant stroll – maintaining social distancing – around a local park. We talked about potting for approximately forty minutes of the hour we spent together. Most enthusiastically discussed was our exchange about the possibility of getting Neil's hitherto dormant electric kiln firing. He had acquired this excellent electric kiln by chance and not having had it wired-into a supply had yet to use it for almost two years. Now with our combined enthusiasm we hoped to get it going. I also learnt something about turning pots that was very informative and revealing, another factor that bodes well for tomorrow’s rematch with those leather-hard forms, placed upside-down, stuck with wet clay to the wheel-head: Queer business trimming. There was also talk of collaborative throwing on my wheel but at these strange times nothing could be planned with any certainty. Neil would have to talk to his housemates about the implications of socialising indoors at another household. Robert had already given his consent but Neil had several housemates to consider. I dearly hope we can both throw and fire some pots together sooner rather than later.  

Back at home and in the studio by three-thirty PM feeling buoyed by my encounter with a kindred clay-spirit and refreshed from the walk I sat down to get throwing. Enough of this dry trimming, bring on the water, the miraculous union between H2O and Al2O3 2SiO2·2H2O (That’s clay which I certainly DID have to Google).   

I first had to ball-up some of the recycled stoneware clay and did so into my standard one-pound balls. There would be no curve balls of 24+ Ounces for this introductory session. I was back at the helm now proper and threwdown my first ball. It took me quite a long time, maybe five minutes or more to get centred sufficiently for the next move of 'going in'. I was definitely rusty and took some time to warm-up. The first few throwdowns were write-offs. I pulled the rim off of the first two attempted cylinders, as is my tendency due to somehow accumulating a lot of clay at the rim after lifting two or three times (I have yet to figure out how to remedy this). For the third throwdown I tried a bowl and that too, although more successful was not a good form and so was added to that wonderful pile of wet clay on the table to the left of my wheel. I decided to try one more cylinder before relenting and I managed a perfectly nice cylinder with even thickness of walls and perpendicular sides. It measured up to a height of 4” with a diameter of 3.2” - I was delighted! This felt a somewhat peremptory result. It seemed that what I had learned in my penultimate day of throwing last week was a breakthrough moment with staying power. Secure in this knowledge and high from the successful cylinder this seemed an auspicious time for a break.  

When I came back to throw about thirty minutes later the results were stupendous. I threw another cylinder with fair form and this time it reached up to 4.5” after the first lift! On the second lift it came up to 5” - the magic number! And achieved in just two pulls. Now I was completely convinced that I had made a real progress. I made small adjustments for a long time with this cylinder hoping to get it perfectly perpendicular with a straight even form. As is my usual tendency towards perfectionism I antagonised the form too much and provoked the throwing Gods wrath. The form therefore wasn't in a good way after all of my fussing. So I wouldn't be able to preserve my trophy, big deal. The import of the matter is that it had been tall and wide and even. On my next throwdown I tried for a cylinder again, it's all I wanted to do! There was a collapse but I salvaged about half the clay and threw a sort of mug shape which I got off from the wheel and onto a board. Having ticked the box of getting at least one piece safely on a board the last throwdown was also lost due to excessive fussing and over zealousness in trying to attain greater heights in fewer lifts. I'm usually keen on running before walking ‘SIGH’.  

On a philosophical note I realise now that it wasn't easy getting to today. With the usual suspects of anxiety, inertia and doubt preying on my mind after a whole week away from clay there was temptation to stay away even longer lest I take the risk of trying and failing. I'm thankful that the wonderfully impartial clay stays true and doesn't disappoint the earnest hatchling potter. 

Tomorrow is Saturday but for me in accordance with a clay working-week its a Tuesday. It's another clay-day and I wouldn't have it any other way. 

HP out.  

10:04 – 10:44 

11:12 – 12:22 

15:38 – 17:10 

17:10 – 17:40 

20:30 – 21:13 BLOG 

TOTAL 4H 34M 

06/02/21 SATURDAY: 

Today was a good day. I began by inspecting the clay leftover from throwing yesterday and found it was too wet to knead. This meant I was straight into throwing and quite excitedly I was straight into the terracotta clay that had been waiting for its time on the wheel since it’s purchase in November. I have almost exhausted my supply of B9c stoneware and have kept back about 3KG of this particular clay for other forms such as handles or hand-building. Regarding ordering more clay I've came to the space-saving decision that before getting more clay I will use whatever I have first. This stock is predominated by the 37.5KG of Terracotta. And so the grey mud, grey water and grey splatters were replaced by brown mud, brown water and brown splatters. If I thought regular old grey clay was messy then this terracotta red stuff was something else - throwing with Terracotta is a very messy affair! The first few throwdowns were challenging and soon my immense excitement of using a different clay on the wheel was evaporated. The novelty waned almost non-existent as I quickly began to focus on successfully throwing with this new clay; brown or grey my endeavour remained unchanged. I tried a cylinder first which didn't go well, the clay is stiffer than the stoneware and requires more force at all stages: Centring, going-in, pulling-out and the lifts all required a greater yet crucially measured force. The second throwdown also ended in failure as a tear opened up just below the lip of the pot. I was struggling to recalibrate my hands and fingers. A new error had manifested in that my fingers were slipping over the rim at the top of a pull and consequently distorting the rim of the pot. I was beginning to think that my noble intentions of using all the clay I had instead of getting more of the clay I had become familiar with for these initial stages of practice was a mistake. The words from Phil Roger's book which were highlighted in bold were now haunting my mind: “Try and use the same type of clay, and don't change in the initial stages of your throwing”. The third throwdown I needed a result to rescue my sinking confidence and so threw a bowl, it was a very bad form but I did get it off the wheel and onto a board so that felt good. (It's strange that even though the form is bad and the throwing awkward just getting something off the wheel and onto a board always feels like an encouragement). After wrestling with this stiffer more demanding clay for three throwdowns I was ready for a break and took one to have a snack. I came back to the wheel feeling a bit mentally groggy and heavy with doubts but ready to try again. I tried another Terracotta lump and again met with a collapse. I thought torturously: “Why oh why after the success of yesterday and the preceding sessions would I now go and change clays… I had just got the hang of throwing a decent cylinder and now I'm ruining that progress by changing clays!”. I needed some reassurance and reached for one of the few remaining one-pound balls of grey stoneware. The trick worked and I threw an okay cylinder, this form did end up in the recycle pile but I had made it to a good height which reassured me. I tried Terracotta again and I met with an improvement. As I threw a couple more times with the Terracotta I could feel my hands warming to this brown usurper and it, I think, must have warmed to me. I got a sort of mug off the wheel after an attempt at a bowl failed and then after a failed cylinder formed a small disk. Both meagre consolation prizes from the Terracotta blunders but consolations all the same. Before taking my lunch break I reached for the one-and-a-half pound ball of stoneware. I was in the mood for a bigger lump of my old familiar grey friend and after repeatedly wrestling with its stiffer brown compatriot a larger ball of Terracotta was unthinkable. Attempting a cylinder I did quite fine and threw a well-formed one up to 5” by 3” wide. Nothing to boast about but considering I haven't really thrown much at all with heavier lumps of clay I was very pleased. I got this Goliath off the wheel and though it lost its shape due to my improper technique for removing it from the wheel-head it was a very passable plant-pot. Time for a stroll in the rain. I wrapped up warm and took an umbrella for a forty-minute stroll around the park just outside the house. I've found in Winter especially it pays to leave the house at least once during the daylight hours even if one doesn't feel like it. Moving around outdoors remedies most queer feelings and in the winter with gloominess all around its easier for gloominess to take hold of one inside. I felt right as the rain dripping from my umbrella when I arrived back to the house. 

I then settled down to a lunch of roasted vegetables and lentil stew. I needed those wholesome calories after the terracotta showdown and brisk walk. I settled back into the helm at 14:53 to throw some more one-pound terracotta balls and met with more failures. I wasn't fazed and with some very important trimming on my afternoon agenda I decided to wrap-up the throwing, but not before trying my luck with a mighty giant two-pound ball of stoneware. To my utter delight I was rewarded with a good session throwing this lump - the heaviest which I've attempted in earnest yet. Going very slowly through all the steps, apart from the centring of course - that had to be fast - I took about four or five very slow pulls. After what must have been between twenty to thirty minutes I had a well-formed cylinder that would be an acceptable plant-pot. Its height was just under 5” and its width 4 ½”. I managed to get it off the wheel and onto a board with the same slight deformation as with the previous plant-pot. I'm planning on soon making the highly lauded 'twisted cut-off wire' which will hopefully as Mr. Simon Leach insists “raise my game” when removing pots from the wheel-head.  

Feeling buoyant I began trimming. After watching several videos on how to centre before trimming I was equipped better and used a slightly more expedient method for centring than the pencil method. By just feeling when the pot touched my finger, then stopping the wheel and giving the pot a little tap each time ever towards the centre. The other method I was hopeful would work was wetting the rim so the piece would stick to the wheel without having to go through the awkward and long-winded business of pinning it down with clay sausages. After establishing my methods I really got into the rhythm and had a moment of insight that it was okay and proper to really slow down and take my time here. This trimming was a crucial part of the process and if anything I needed to take even more time here than with throwing. I relaxed into it, let go of time and my efficiency fetish and the results were just wonderful. I was delighted with how the foot-rings of my cherished bowls turned out, quite literally these foot-rings were turned out. Considering these bowls had made it to this stage where possibly five to ten others had ended up in the recycle pile made the savour of trimming them to an acceptable standard all the more delicious. I could have gone on trimming several more pieces after completing three bowls but knew that imprudent enthusiasm would leave me tired and rushing to do other ‘Life’ chores this evening. I wanted to eat, shower, meditate and spend some time with Robert who I hadn't really seen all day. Good decision considering its now ten-past-ten PM and much later than I would have ideally been writing my journal entry for the day. But I did shower, meditate, eat and catch-up with Robert so both ART and LIFE were attended to today. Tomorrow more trimming and more Terracotta, oh and there will be some wedging to start the day in the freezing cold basement of doom. Thats the way I like to start my clay day. How do you like to start yours dear reader?

HP happily knackered out.

10:30 – 11:25

12:19 – 13:14

14:53 – 15:20

15:32 – 17:04

21:28 – 22:08 JOURNAL

TOTAL 4H 29M 

07/02/21 SUNDAY: 

Struggled to get out of bed this morning and so could only begin my potting endeavours at 10:48 – maybe it was Sunday morning syndrome. If there is any curiosity as to why I would be routinely potting on a Sunday it is because with my fortnightly weekend trip to Cambridge already on the horizon I am intent to pot as much as possible while in Sheffield. Having said that after today's trials I'm considering a non-clay day tomorrow, so perhaps the Sunday syndrome will catch-up with me after all by Monday. The trials I speak of are primarily related to the change of my clay-body. Terracotta or as I'm now prone to call it the 'Red Devil' has really got me out of sorts at the wheel. But more on that later.  

I started at 10:48 with the project of making my own twisted cut-off wire, a fiddly operation involving two elements: Wooden handles and fishing line. Following Simon Leach's demonstration as best I could I spent about an hour sawing pieces of wooden-dowel for the handles and subsequently drilling holes in them. Then cutting the appropriate length of 8KG fishing line followed by the fiddly business of tying knots, twisting the wire on the potter's wheel and finally tweaking the end product. I succeeded in making two twisted cut-off wires and one plain old straight/untwisted one for wedging. Having tried the better of the two twisted cut-off wires it's clear that they do not have nearly enough twists and so the desired effects of leaving a pleasant pattern on the base of the pots and the practical advantage of greater ease in removing a pot from the wheel-head both have been missed. Despite these disappointments I am still happy with the time spent. This is primarily because the manufactured cut-off wire I had been using up until this morning is slowly disintegrating and as part of it's demise has begun to stab me with its pin-sharp metal strands poking out from the main wire-body. I can't recommend enough not to buy such a cut-off wire and Simon Leach would echo these sentiments. Above all other reasons they are genuinely a hazard and caused me several painful puncture wounds to my hands – the very last thing an enthusiastic potter or anyone needs!  

So with a good job done and three new cut-off wires I went into the basement to wedge about 2KG of the stoneware clay that had dried sufficiently from throwing with it on Friday. This done and eighty-six minutes elapsed without even getting onto the wheel it was time for a tea-break to regroup before facing the waiting Terracotta balls beside the helm.  

I sat down to the wheel just before one PM and would remain there for just over an hour desperately trying to get to grips with the 'Red Devil'. I have yet to investigate whether or not Terracotta is universally accepted to be more difficult to throw with than my trusty companion 'Stoneware B9c' but I have a strong inclination to believe this is the case. I tried some cylinders as usual to begin with and similar to yesterday ended up ripping the top off towards the last quarter of a lift several times, tears followed twists due to squeezing too hard and/or a lack of lubrication on the sides of the pot. On one pot I even split the clay before going for the first lift, somehow a split was caused when I was widening the clay out and consolidating the base of the pot – that's never happened before. I didn't form anything satisfactory but did manage a single acceptable bowl in its entirety. Other than this I salvaged one small disk and two hockey-puck shaped bowls from clay that remained still stuck to the wheel-head after a collapse. I've definitely noted a shift in my attitude this week compared to last week in that I'm much more intent on actually getting pieces off of the wheel. Practice is still my main objective but even when a cylinder or bowl crashes I still want to create something from the remains. I wonder if this is a waste of my energy and more importantly a detrimental break between throwing the next lump with immediacy so as to carry forward the lessons and experiences from the preceding throwdown.  

Pretty fed-up but not too disheartened I departed for a freezing cold walk. The forecast for the coming days is down to minus-four degrees Celsius overnight and freezing during the daytime. Staying out for about thirty minutes I returned home for lunch and then went back to the studio with the intentions of trimming the remaining pieces that were leather-hard left pending from yesterday. With great difficulty I trimmed a bowl and carved out a foot-ring that could only be described as insipid. 

In fairness I am trying to explore the different lines and foot-rings that can be achieved by trimming and this was one such experiment. I can now say that the experiment was a great success as on reflection I find this foot-ring and profile repulsive. No more of such foot-rings on my bowls then! Next up was trimming a cylinder and now things really got ugly. I lost my patience while trying to stick the rim to the wheel-head by moistening it and applying downward pressure. This expedient method of adhering pot to wheel-head is no doubt the best way for an experienced potter. Only problem is that I am not an experienced potter. And so being too slow at centring means the moistened rim dries out by the time I apply the downward pressure and doesn't stick. I had to default to the clay lumps after almost completely losing the plot, I mean pot. Even then the cylinder was coming off the wheel-head while I tried to trim a foot into it's base. The result was horrible and no dear reader worry not for I won't be so callous as to subject you to another ghastly photograph. If you thought the insipid bowl's foot-ring bad then trust me you don't want to see the horror of this cylinder's bottom. At this point I knew my limits and almost gave up on clay for the day but then on resilient reflection I decided to weigh out and ball-up what remained of the second bag of Terracotta. Having done this I had about six 12oz balls, eight 1lb balls, two 1½lb balls and a single 2lb ball. 

Feeling pleased with my efforts and with so many invitingly round, smooth lumps of clay spread about me I surprised myself by sitting back at the helm to try again with the 'Red Devil'. Perhaps I romantically thought that after my handling the clay and lovingly weighing and balling it the red devil would be more yielding to my touch on the wheel. I was wrong. I only threw two times and then glumly retired. I finished the day by cleaning-up. After three days of throwing and trimming the slurry in my splash tray was thickening to soup and my tools were in need of cleaning and drying out. In honesty I was by this time already considering a non-clay day tomorrow. As I type now its settled in my mind that I'll definitely give my 'Terracotta Terror' a day to recover. I've moreover again reached the stage where I'm seeing the spinning wheel when I lie down to sleep at night. A break it will be tomorrow to unwind and I'll let my mind untwist from all that fiddly twisting fishing line.  

Robert took this photo as I took the first of what I hope will be many boards of completed forms down to the basement. He posed the innocent question of whether these pots can wait indefinitely before firing - to find out is on the checklist for my non-clay day tomorrow.  

HP out. 

10:48 – 12:15 

12:52 – 13:59 

15:28 – 17:08 

19:46 – 20:31 BLOG 

TOTAL 4H 58M 

08/02/21 MONDAY: 

I almost managed to completely stay away from clay today. In addition to covering some pots with plastic, moving some clay down to the basement and general tidying I also tried my hand at decorating one of the larger planters. It didn't go well. The book I took inspiration from makes it look easy and I naively thought I could instantly replicate what was being achieved in this book. As a result I ruined the one-and-a-half pound planter. At one moment I was so desperate that I took out a teaspoon to try and carve out my erroneous and comical markings made haphazardly with my pottery tools. Robert rightly pointed out that one should always practice on a piece of scrap clay before making any irreversible moves. I'd like to think I've learnt that lesson for good but the realist in me reckons on the same mistake being made in the future.  

09/02/21 TUESDAY: 

Today was a dry clay-day. I started as is my preference with some wedging and kneading down in the basement. Little did I realise until a couple of days ago that this process makes a terrific commotion sending tremors upwards and around the house. It now occurs to me that when chatting with our neighbour last week she mentioned a 'new banging sound' at about eleven AM that would have almost certainly been me wedging. Oh well it only lasts for about ten minutes so hopefully I can be permitted making such a commotion for that short window of time. The kneading done I emerged from the basement victoriously with my smoothly recycled terracotta clay. I then started my second attempt at making my own twisted cut-off wires. An eBay item I ordered in the form of wooden toggles had arrived yesterday afternoon and I would now be able to follow Simon Leach's instructions with all the right equipment. Having watched the video again last night I had also filled in the blanks from my half-baked attempt last time. So armed with new materials and fresh knowledge I began. The results were three beautifully twisted cut-off wires with one toggle heavier than the other which anchor the wire across the rim of the splash-tray of the wheel - or happily stored on the branches of the nearest houseplant.  

Though I've yet to try the new self-made tool I feel hopeful that it will leave the desired pleasing pattern on the base of my pots. More importantly I’m really hopeful that its implementation will make getting pieces off of the wheel-head easier. Feeling this optimism and satisfaction from achieving a long-held goal I decided there was still some time to trim a bowl or two. Trimming was the main goal of this dry day. The cut-off wires in the morning and in the afternoon pulling handles for the first time ever! So I settled into trimming two bowls. It wasn't smooth as I'm not practised at this important part of making pots yet. Two acceptable foot-rings and a more refined shape on two bowls were the fruits of about half-an-hours work. Time for a tea break. 

Back to trimming after tea: This time I spent an awkward and frustratingly slow hour or so trimming bowls, jugs and mugs. The latter two forms proved dastardly tricky. The primary challenge wasn't the trimming itself – though a potter or ceramics critic may beg to differ – it is the protracted procedure of centring the piece and then fixing it to the wheel-head with several sausages of clay. Throughout these attempts at centring I managed to learn a few lessons from my mistakes. I realised that as much time as it takes it takes I cannot avoid using pieces of clay to stick the piece to the wheel-head. There is a much more expedient method where the rim of the piece is moistened and when pressed down firmly onto the wheel-head a vacuum is created and voila the potter has quickly and effectively fixed her pot ready for trimming. This however is not possible if it takes five minutes and between five to eight moving or taps of the piece in the required direction to centre it. By near 14:00 I was pretty fed up but this was counterbalanced by the results - another six pieces trimmed to an acceptable standard. Before lunch though I was ready to try pulling handles for the first time. Having watched Simon Leach (who else!) on YouTube as my homework of last night I proceeded to hold up a two-pound lump of the stoneware clay and begin imitating from memory his actions. It went well for the first ten minutes or so and then my left arm started aching from constantly holding the lump of clay at shoulder height. With this unpleasant sensation my patience started to wane. I managed to get a few acceptable(?) handles on my board to dry – I question this appraisal of my handles as likely would a competent potter. Nevertheless, it was another exacting first-try at something integral to pottery.  

My lunchtime walk went slightly longer than expected as I was joined by Robert. On returning to the house I was then obliged to talk to someone on the phone for twenty minutes. This meant I was already feeling a bit impatient and rushed when I got back into my pop-up studio at around a quarter-to-four. Looking at all the pieces remaining for trimming I felt even worse. The trimming started badly and I had several moments of feeling somewhat dejected. The two jugs in particular – of which after throwing I was so proud of – were proving to be little devils to trim. The pouring-lip and therefore break in symmetry made them difficult to stick down with clay. I also had a frantic moment with one of the foot-rings and the bottom of this particular piece looked like a train-wreck. It was this catastrophe though that brought the realisation that with trimming, just as with throwing, I had to dictate or manipulate where the clay goes. It's no good timidly holding the trimming tool to the sides and base of a pot and hoping for the best. Phil Rogers says in his book that one should cultivate an attitude of 'Attacking a pot' when trimming. These words reinforced by my experience helped me to be more assertive and trim with increased confidence; and so things did improve after some time. I was particularly happy with a couple of the foot-rings carved out halfway through the session and delighted with some moments of unexpected creativity. I used a recently fashioned serrated edge on a credit card to make a pleasing pattern on the two-pound plant-pot and carved a nice spiral onto the inside of a small terracotta dish. Decoration with the momentum of the potter's wheel seems to be effortless compared to hand carving. As mentioned at the beginning of this entry the time just flew by today, I suppose I really did get into the flow with trimming in the end. So much was this the case that I couldn't watch a tutorial on attaching my pulled handles to the jugs and mugs. The tutorial is now homework for this evening and the handles will hopefully stay moist enough overnight, (I wrapped them in plastic), to use tomorrow. Tomorrow is a wet clay-day. Throwing has been suspended for two days but tomorrow it will be throwdown time and the handles will provide a welcome change of scenery in the midst of all the whirling. 

HP out and praying to the pottery Gods for a successful day throwing with the 'Red Devil' tomorrow.  

10:30 – 12:15 

12:43 – 13:54 

15:43 – 17:09 

20:17 – 20:47 BLOG 

TOTAL 4H 52M 

10/02/21 WEDNESDAY: 

Thank You Pottery Gods, today you have been kind to this hatchling potter. 

Today was my most productive throwing day yet and so it seems that I have finally made friends with the 'Red Devil'. Instead of being met with this dastardly new and frightening character from the very first throwdown it was the 'Red Comrade' today. It must be conceded and you Reader must be informed that the majority of the pieces pictured above were salvaged from attempts at bigger cylinders. My struggle to perfect the cylinder goes on and today I diagnosed a very specific malady in my attempts. Strangely I think it goes back to the same problem I was having before, namely that I'm squeezing too hard. However, I won't bore you with these technical faults and what I feel to be very personal challenges in my throwing practice. What made the real difference to my productivity today was the use of a new tool and more honed technique in cutting off the rim of a lost cylinder. The method of removing the rim of a pot is a basic manoeuvre for any potter, however it was one I had been struggling to execute effectively due to a combination of the wrong tool and uncertain technique (I feel this combination could harass me for a hell of a long time on my potter's journey). Today for this procedure I used a homemade tool instead of the rather old and blunt point-tool which was not cutting through the pot cleanly. My self-made tool was simply a sewing needle pushed into a cork. The cork provided a stable handle and the sharp end of the needle sliced through the wall of clay underneath the rim like a hot knife through butter. It was this simple evolution that meant today, unlike any other day I was able to salvage the clay underneath the twisted or collapsed rims of my tall cylinders. The result was more than a few mug forms. It's amazing how much difference an innovation or upgrade of tool can be. Indeed, this point was further demonstrated in an equally profound upgrade: Today for the first time I used my twisted cut-off wire and I was overjoyed to witness its promised effectiveness. The pattern it leaves on the bottom of the pot is attractive no doubt. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But the crucial element that was the second pincer of today's productivity was the air a twisted wire facilitates to get underneath the pot ensuring the pot doesn't stick back down to the wheel-head after wiring underneath it. The moment was one of euphoria when I removed the first cylindrical form from my wheel successfully this morning. Having done all other procedures carefully, such as the important removal of slurry from the pot's sides with a throwing stick. (This move reveals the tacky surface of the pot which more easily adhered to my cleaned and dried hands). All being well, hands can then be wrapped around the pot and with a slight tilt towards me up she came from the wheel-head: Beautifully, wonderfully, off the wheel-head and then beautifully, wonderfully down onto the board! I was able to repeat this success for as many brown pots in the above photo – nine by my count. Admittedly they are all different dimensionally however I did manage a couple of cylinders with which I was quite satisfied. Though reaching the height to clay ratio achieved by Simon Leach is still very, very far away. As my remote throwing instructor has kindly advised me “don't worry about height, it'll sort itself out with time”. But to conclude on the tools issue: I cannot recommend a very sharp point-tool and a twisted cut-off wire enough and I'm not the only one. Get the right tools, beginning throwing on the potter's wheel is hard enough! 

The other achievement of today was attaching handles for the first time. After pulling them yesterday they were left overnight wrapped in plastic. Being slightly dry I dipped some of the better ones in water an hour before my maiden attempt at attaching one. With Simon Leach's instructions roughly recalled I chose one of the small jugs as my guinea-pig pot. A perhaps bold move as these two little jugs are prized amongst the other more basic pots. I could have slapped a handle on one of them first but I felt buoyant and daring after so much success on the wheel. I attached the handle in about ten minutes just before Robert and I had lunch together. It was a real thrill and though to a seasoned potter it would most likely look like exactly what is – the first attempt of a beginner – I felt it looked rather good.  

Practically speaking however, I have grave concerns. Being attracted to the making of functional tableware the element of usability is important to me. The handle I attached to this jug wouldn't take my two fingers so for a man he could only hold this jug with one digit – not a good look. This minor exposure to having finished a piece of functional tableware gave me an equally tiny insight into how important a design process must be for potters making in this area of ceramics. I gleaned over issues such as making pots with rims wide enough to admit the average-sized washing-up brush amongst other practical considerations. But reigning myself in and returning to the present moment all was well again. Before sitting down to eat I proudly announced to Robert that I had just attached my first ever handle and held the little jug aloft with handle for him to see. A post-lunch walk after which I was keen to get back onto the wheel. This afternoon session went much the same way as the morning with point-tool and twisted cut-off wire coming up trumps. I stopped prematurely due to physical discomfort and probably also emotional fatigue. Facing the 'Red Devil' and witnessing its transformation to my the ‘Red-Comrade’ had been a big transition. I settled down to spend twenty minutes attaching my other two handles to the second small jug and a small mug. This went as well as the first time, though feeling awkward and probably looking awkward to a discerning eye. As for my discerning eye; it will be satisfied if the handle stays on after a bisque-firing. At four PM I was ready to retire from clay. So as to appease a feeling of slacking off early I did the dishes of which there were many. In this household we let them build-up for about five days and then wash them all in one go. That took almost an hour, ideal to fulfil my five’ish working hours.  

Tomorrow will be my last day before another protracted break from clay. I’ll be going to Cambridge to visit my partner from Friday to Tuesday. I'm terrifically lucky to have the time to spend such a long weekend but I will miss my clay days. Disengage to re-engage I suppose. An exciting side-note on tomorrow is that I'll be attending my first of five Zoom seminars on glazing. Title of tomorrow's seminar from 14:30 – 15:30: 'What Is a Glaze?'. With almost no prior glaze knowledge and more pots coming off the wheel this sounds like a great question to be tackling right now.  

HP out.  

(I messed up the operation of my time-log app today. At a guess it was a 3½ hour day. The dishes occupied me happily instead of throwing for the last hour of the late afternoon. Happily because by this point I had a sore left-side from sitting at the helm centring terracotta lumps!).  

11/02/21 THURSDAY: 

Today was another pure throwing day. A shorter yoga session meant that I started slightly earlier with the Terracotta. Surveying the pop-up studio I saw that there was really nothing much to do other than throw more. There was only a slight quantity of stoneware and terracotta clay to be recycled. A mixed feeling resulted from this: Firstly egoic pride that I had lost so little clay to that mound, secondly was a disappointment that there would be no wedging and kneading to begin my day. It really might sound like a form of masochism to those readers that 'pot' themselves but at this early stage in the game I really enjoy going into the cold basement and warming up with wedging and kneading my old clay. It's a real stimulant for any mid-morning grogginess and I just love that the clay I have recycles so well.  

As my eye wandered further in its survey of the studio space it fell upon the drying pots from yesterday and then a mishap was detectable. Though I was hardly surprised by what I saw. Two of the three handles that I'd attached yesterday had broken away from the top join connecting them to they're respective pots. Ironically, though again unsurprisingly for me, the very first handle I had attached remained adhered to the small jug. It seems that my first attempts are usually quite successful when compared to those following. I wonder if this is due to a heightened focus when trying something new combined with a complaisance and even perhaps fatigue setting in for the subsequent tries? Anyway, I wasn't in the least fazed and rather felt that it was a very good thing that the handles had detached now instead of being blown off in the bisque-firing. At that juncture surely somebody would be there to witness this embarrassing mishap! As for the one remaining intact handle we will just have to wait and see if it makes it out of the kiln intact – I'd give it 60-40 in favour of it detaching. I decided not to retry the handle pulling process on these pots. Clearly the more rotund little jug and the small odd-looking mug felt handles were unbecoming of them – fair enough I thought.  

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And so onto the throwing. It was to be another session of strong productivity. Indeed, more so than yesterday as before one PM I had eight pieces safely sitting aboard to dry out. There were three bowls, three mugs and two cylinders. During these two throwing sessions separated by a twenty-minute tea break at eleven forty-five I found the secret of getting pieces off the wheel lay in the proper judgement of the form’s composition. When an attempted cylinder was lost due to uneven pulling and a resulting uneven thickness of the walls, usually in the top third of the pot between halfway and the bottom of the rim. This situation I had now learnt was irremediable and so when at this juncture I now choose to remove the top third of the pot and create a shorter mug-form from the remaining clay. This remaining from crucially still has even thickness of walls to tolerate more lifts and shaping. Having outlined the process of salvaging pots from failed attempts at tall cylinders I must share that I further produced three very nice cylinders today. Indeed, I knew perfectly well that I was in the much sought-after 'flow state' that many people arbitrarily know just as the experience of everything just going well. Artists and athletes I know are familiar and seasoned in identifying this state. I knew quite well that for about an hour or so I was in this flow state. Centring came easy and the other moves of 'going in', 'opening out' and the lifts were all executed with a steady confidence which sparingly graces only a few hours out of four or five days at the wheel.  

Today then was outstanding; a great reward for my diligent practice of throwing straight cylinders and efforts to get pieces cleanly off the wheel. My lucidity of mind was so intuitively keen that I even made the right decision about when to throw a bowl after having opened out and before the first lift. This would be when the clay had moved off from a good centre or perhaps wasn't centred properly in the first place. Bowls having a greater margin for error these moments of clear decision-making saved futile efforts and wasted energy. 

After lunch and a stroll with Robert I was ready for my first seminar on glazes which began on Zoom at two-thirty PM. This first of five seminars was titled: 'What is a Glaze?'. This was just the sort of introductory lesson I needed. With a now rapidly increasing number of pots glazing was just around the corner on my adventure as a hatchling potter.  

The presenter of the course is experienced and presently making pots himself – both encouraging signs. This course was made known to me through an email from the Norther Potter Association. Usually I would have little inclination for such a course, especially when it is an online affair. Firstly I don't like to pay for the privilege of learning. I've always felt that if I really care about learning something then I will find the resources and help required for free. However my immersion into the deep pools of potting this year has brought several changes in my attitude towards learning and spending money to expediate such proceedings. The freeway is a good way to go but it's usually more protracted and wearisome. At the age of thirty-two and with ambitions to be a half-decent maker I don't have the same time or energy that I once possessed. As for my gripes about an online teaching course there was something meaningful about attending the course live. The lecture part of the presentation could have been pre-recorded without any viewer interaction but there was a Q&A session at the end of the one hour where one of my questions was answered by the presenter. Moreover, knowing the speaker was in real time with me as were the other participants had a meaning to it. The energy of the instructor and other participants is a real factor even when only connected by a wi-fi signal. At the Q&A session mine was the first question on the group chat and so was answered first. The question I posed was about the economic advantages of mixing ones own glazes compared to buying pre-mixed liquids. To my delight not only did I learn that in my Teacher's experience mixing oneself is about half as expensive but he also extolled the great benefits of learning about glazes and building an experiential understanding when mixing them oneself. I liked that very much – 50%-off and increased learning. Of course, this way takes more time but I'm unemployed during a national lockdown, time is what I do have.  

After the lecture - which was actually quite taxing as I was concentrating hard for the entire one hour – I was aware of some household duties to be completed before my departure to Cambridge tomorrow morning. Therefore at this juncture I decided to finish potting for the day and for this week. It felt like a sweet treat to do so on an unequivocal high-note. No more throwing, my body a bit sore from the recent days’ extended sessions and the apprehension that it could all go badly so easily. Thankfully to save my blushes about clocking off early again the tidy-down operation lasted from about 16:00 and took about fifty minutes to complete in a thorough and satisfactory manner. That done the pottery studio was no more and I could relax into an evening of light 'LIFE' tasks. 

I'm looking forward to seeing my partner this Thursday afternoon but this moment comes with a different feeling when compared to two weeks prior. At this pre-departure time two weeks ago I was relieved to be done with potting. I can see now that those first introductory days to the discipline of throwing were demanding in many different ways. This time around though I had really settled into the rhythm of my days potting and struck a good balance between throwing, turning and miscellaneous activities like tool-making and handling. The forms were starting to come now and to witness this for the first time is surely utterly magical. I'll miss the thrill of creativity and the touch of clay. But then again I should remember ‘Disengage to re-engage'.  

Hatchling Potter going out on a high this evening, before heading down to Cambridge in the morning.  

10:17 – 11:46 

12:08 – 13:05 

14:25 – 15:43 SEMINAR 

15:51 – 16:48 TIDY-DOWN 

20:23 – 20:53 JOURNAL 

TOTAL 4H 41M 

17/02/21 WEDNESDAY: 

We are back and the introductory clay-day is over. Today was much like a typical Monday morning in the UK. It took me a while to get out of bed this morning and thereafter I was side-tracked away from beginning with the clay at ten-thirty as is the usual routine. This ‘LIFE’ oriented appointment at the opticians meant that I was only able to start setting up the pop-up studio by around midday. This completed in record time I was ready to begin the clay-day proper by kneading a few kilos of clay. After this ideal warm-up exercise I settled into the pop-up studio’s cosy and growing familiarity. Truly this transient space which is at one moment the front-room, the next a pottery studio was becoming my ‘Happy Place’. I had been looking forward to getting back to the Terracotta and first on the agenda today was pulling handles. Before setting out for the opticians I re-watched a video of Simon Leach on YouTube doing just this. With this tutorial fresh in my mind I was ready to pull. I nominated a slightly lighter lump of clay remembering the strain in my shoulder and arm after pulling handles the last time. As I began to pull things went from bad to worse. I feel confident at this juncture in my clay journey that terracotta clay is far more unforgiving than the stoneware clay I had been using at first. This was the case in the initial throwing and now I was having a similar experience when pulling handles of terracotta. The clay easily became disjointed at any one area of the lengthening spaghetti strand coming down from the source lump above. Consequently, there were numerous breakages which although I remained calm about, these interruptions did cause a feeling of slight hopelessness. This in turn led to a degree of prevailing flippancy in my attitude toward the task at hand. The results from this ever-fraying state of internal affairs were mirrored by an external ghastliness. I laid about ten rather thin, uneven, sickly looking handles down onto my board. I covered them in plastic with intentions of attaching them later in the day. But as it happened I didn’t get round to it.  

Moving on I set about the somewhat pressing task of trimming my leather-hard terracotta pieces that I wanted to be in the kiln on Friday morning. Yes that’s right reader. Over the weekend I was able and fortunate to organise a bisque-firing for all of my stoneware and terracotta pieces. And so the trimming process today was relevant and for the first time a somewhat pressing matter. It turned out that the clay was too wet for this however. In spite of this I stubbornly persevered knowing that I had a deadline of Thursday evening to meet. At this point I became dangerously frustrated and after trimming the third piece under the unsuitable clay conditions I needed to stop. A tea break and a bit of YouTube on what else, trimming tutorials.  

Returning to the studio I was ready to throw for the first time since last Thursday. Predictably I was rusty and this session was a warming-up process only. Taking a short break of five minutes after about an hour I did so with the intention of throwing a mug-shape. I had been set this new technical exercise by my munificent remote throwing instructor. In an exchange of emails over the weekend he had prescribed this exercise with a specific direction to push out with my inside fingers at the beginning of each pull. It was the second time he had explicitly gave this direction. I had been trying to address this instruction but due to some unknown mental block continued to struggle with executing it. I started then looking at the pots I had thrown and photographed last week and saw that they all had a profile of widening out from the base. My virtual teacher was prompting me to form walls that were perpendicular from the base to the top of the form, perfectly straight shapes from top to bottom. It was this from that I would attempt with a 3”/3” squat mug-shape. To my delight something in my mind clicked and I was able to produce a good form. This squat mug was almost exactly the right dimensions of 3”/3”. Sometimes it really is better to be less ambitious - crawling before walking, walking before running and all that. By this time, just before four PM I took another break and after chatting with Robert who asked if I would do anymore throwing, the answer came that “Probably I shouldn’t as stopping now would mean finishing on a high note” and so that’s what happened I clocked-off earlier than usual. As I am finishing this journal entry before six PM which results in a totally free late-evening the decision feels like the right one. Perhaps I’ll dream about that little squat-mug with perpendicular sides.  

12:11 – 13:34 

14:03 – 15:17 

15:21 – 15:53 

17:00 – 17:43 BLOG 

TOTAL 3HR 52M 

18/02/21 THURSDAY: 

Today was a big clay-day. With the knowledge of dropping off my best pots for firing at a studio in town tomorrow I was energized to put in my longest day with clay so far. Though it should be noted that one hour of the day was devoted to watching an online seminar on glazes, it was the second of six weekly lectures composing an online educational course entitled ’Glazing: Everything you need to know’. Catchy name right. The lecture was similar to the first: Very helpful though I have my doubts about the promise of the title. Glazes perhaps more than any other integral process of pottery are vastly diverse and intricately complex. 

But I digress, on with recalling today’s proceedings. The first hour I spent with clay today was at the helm throwing terracotta. This was done at random with differing quantities of clay for any one throwdown. Due to the recent pulling and trimming processes I had accumulated quite a number of misshapen lumps of clay. These I slapped between my hands forming them into a ball shape and then down onto the wheel they went as a warm-up to this crucial day.  

After my customary tea-break I spent the second hour trimming the variety of mug forms I had at the leather-hard stage. This, as is usually the case with trimming, was begun with considerable difficulty and frustration. I found that one piece that I was particularly fond of – a sort of tall barrel beaker – had developed a vertical crack at it’s rim. The crack wasn’t small measuring about one inch. This was my first experience of a piece cracking seemingly without any reason or cause. This prompted me to inspect some other pieces and I found this had happened on a few other pieces. All cracks were to be found on the terracotta only, none in the stoneware pieces. As I continued to trim the pieces I found to my dismay that a good number of the pots had dried too much and were beyond the proper leather-hard state for trimming to be possible. As I wrestled to try and trim another shape not dissimilar to the barrel tumbler just described the entire form collapsed in on itself. This was a disaster, I had only two of such forms and now neither would be going into the kiln. The Red Devil has returned in a different drier guise I thought. 

The bulk of my better terracotta forms had dried too much now! Terracotta is seemingly merciless in this respect. Hopefully I have learned my lesson to ever so gradually allow this clay to dry. After finding the pieces too soft yesterday morning I decided to leave them totally uncovered overnight. Too much of one way doesn’t mean going too far in the other direction is the remedy. This was my cardinal terracotta sin.  

It was time for a pensive lunch break. On returning to the clay at around two-thirty PM I was thankful to find there were a number of pieces that had remained moister, most were bowls. I managed therefore, after getting into a flow with the trimming, to trim a few really nice raised foot-rings into these bowls. 

I then moved on to the all-important attaching of the handles left undone from yesterday. Things didn’t improve much from the first stage of ghastly pulling. Indeed, why would they considering the state of the handles I was attaching? Furthermore the problem was compounded as the clay composing mug forms I would be attaching them to was too dry. Oh dear. The photo says everything about this comedic handle calamity and I would rather swiftly move on.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Having now undertaken throwing, trimming and handle-attaching already I then really pushed the boat out and digged into the last few kilos of Stoneware clay. I was hoping I might be able to throw something big and impressive to sneak into the elite group of pots that had made the cut and would be fired tomorrow. This ambition to throw big and well was hopeful but in the end hopeless. Considering my throwing is still rusty and I was at this point pushing myself harder than ever before - the results reflected my unrealistic over-ambitiousness. I did get two forms in stoneware off the wheel-head but both were bad forms. 

Exhausted after these last-ditch exertions I retired after a continuous session of almost three hours. It was settled, I had the pots to be fired and overall I was happy. Later that evening just before retiring for the night I said out-loud to Robert “I’m quite overwhelmed when I think that the pots I’ve made will be fired tomorrow”.  

10:28 – 11:28 

11:53 – 13:04 

14:24 – 17:16 (first hour ‘glazing’ seminar) 

20:38 – 21:12 JOURNAL 

TOTAL 5H 37M 

19/02/2021 FRIDAY: 

It's my first ever kiln day and I awake feeling an excitement. To be honest I’m eagerly looking forward to the day generally. The last couple of days have been a bit tense in my studio and I’m glad to have a break from the ever-steep learning curve and exacting nature of my relationship with clay as a hatchling potter. What’s more is that during times of such rigorous restrictions on hitherto regular activities this is an opportunity for a proper adventure. The studio owner Stephan (the very same Stephan that provided me with my wheel) told me that between 11:00-12:00 would be ideal timing to deliver my pots. I’m therefore clocked-in for the clay-day at just before ten AM. Most of the pieces that are being fired today are down in the basement and I begin by descending to begin placing them into one shallow cardboard box and four plastic trays. These receptacles usually contain fruit or vegetables. They are sturdy enough and the plastic is quite soft – ideal for bone-dry pots, especially the precarious terracotta ones. I have all piece's, terracotta and stoneware, laid out ready up in the dining room by ten-thirty which while being a practical position also presents good light for several photo opportunities. I’ve already checked in with my obliging driver Robert and expect to be leaving at around eleven AM. With half-an-hour to wait naturally it's time for a cup of tea. 

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I get the nod from Robert at just before eleven-thirty and I start loading the car. Three boxes on the backseat and one in the footwell behind the driver’s seat. All looks to be sufficiently secure and considering almost all the pieces are bone-dry it needs to be. At this stage before a bisque-firing all pieces are very brittle. I take the box with the handled mugs in my lap - I have already been cautioned about the extreme fragility of handles on bone-dry pieces.  

Robert isn’t on good form and the atmosphere in the car as we set off is a little tense. I kindle some light conversation, as ever whether intentionally or unintentionally, my tendency is to seek harmony. Considering what was about to happen it would have probably been better to have been concentrating upon and considering the fact that we had some very precious and highly delicate cargo in the back of the car. As we were talking we both noticed a Heavy Goods Lorry pull out about one hundred metres down the road in front of us. The next thing that happened was that the car in front of us was getting closer to us, or rather we closer to it and fast. Robert hit the brakes with the absolutely necessary degree of force and we stopped about three metres short of hitting the car in front of us. The collision of metal avoided our attention turned to the back of the car and the extremely delicate load we were transporting. One box had fallen from the backseat landing on top of another box which was behind the driver’s seat. Something had smashed, several things had smashed, more pieces were chipped or cracked. We were both momentarily devastated but being adaptable types when it comes to the myriad vicissitudes of life it wasn’t more than some seconds before we gathered our composure and accepted the situation as it was. Robert began apologising, I swiftly countered reassuring him that all was well. And actually, all really was well, the pieces that were now in bits or damaged were amongst the least treasured. The smashed bowl was only thrown yesterday afternoon and was a poor form. The other things that were damaged would be missed but were amidst the lower ranks of quality according to my appraisal. Robert soon confirmed that he had never before had to “brake so hard” as a driver as the journey and conversation resumed. You couldn’t write it could you – of all the journeys it was this one where a near emergency stop was required to avoid a crash! The remainder of the journey and process of delivering the pots was smooth and enjoyable. We found the studio and as planned Stephan was waiting for me. He came to the car to help transport the pots. We hadn’t seen one another for over two months. I was happy to see my pottery guide and donor. I stayed making small happy conversation as well as discussing the firing process while Stephan stacked the kiln. I loved watching him find places for all the pots. The bottom kiln shelf with all the taller mugs, then the shorter ones, the top and third shelf from the bottom was stacked with the bowls – the forms I treasured the most. I had a moment of reflection and profundity at seeing the kiln fully packed with my pots. My pots, nobody else had brought these forms into the world, no other hand had touched the clay through all the kneading, balling-up, throwing and trimming. They were born from me and now they were facing the inferno. They would be consumed within the transformational power of fire. Exposed to the miraculous process of being baked at 950 degrees Celsius and hopefully made powerfully robust thereafter. Ever ready to be rigorously handled, roughly treated, to make them ready for the everyday rigours of being part of the world as a functional pot. It was breath-taking! Prompted by the pregnancy of that moment I captured a quick photo of the squat kiln that now contained my first consciously created expressions in clay, the brown and grey labours of my love. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Saying goodbye to Stephan and leaving the collection date open-ended – nobody makes plans in the same way since March 2020 – I returned to Robert who had patiently waited in the car. The rest of the day was of a joyfully regular nature. We did some shopping at a nearby supermarket, got falafel for lunch and stopped off at a beautiful local cemetery for an afternoon stroll.  

I couldn’t help wondering at what temperature my pots were being baked at different times during the day. I wonder that now. I wonder too whether a handle has broken off yet or has a bowl’s base exploded? Without any previous experience I can only but guess... And I’m guessing the handles haven’t survived this far!  

An excitedly concerned HP out.  

09:55 – 10:26 

11:30 – 12:10 

20:02 – 20:32 JOURNAL 

TOTAL 1HR 41M 

20/02/21 SATURDAY: 

Today was a non-clay day. I spent some time editing and filling out the previous journal entries only. I have vague intentions to pull and attach some handles tomorrow. Sunday feels a good day for such an activity and I know the practice is an imperative one to master.  

15:24 – 15:55 JOURNAL 

TOTAL 1HR 51M 

21/02/21 SUNDAY: 

A slow Sunday morning with an extended session of meditation from 08:00 – 10:30. A slow breakfast of yoghurt and fruit plus marmite on toast instead of the usual full saucepan of porridge. After this exotic breakfast it was already about eleven-thirty AM and I begun this leisurely clay-day by watching several YouTube videos, initially on glazing and decorating techniques such as raw-glazing, double-dipping and using a banding wheel. With my pots now through the entire bisque-firing process these totally new processes could be upon me as early as tomorrow. ‘Could be’ because I’m reliant on Stephan to be in his studio and so facilitate a collection which is at these times difficult to predict. After dipping my theoretical toe in these glaze waters I moved onto the immediacy of this Sunday afternoon. Watching several videos on pulling handles proved very helpful and I was becoming more enthused about getting my hands on clay again. Down and into the studio just before one PM I picked out a suitable lump of terracotta and – thanks to one of the three videos I viewed on handle-pulling – cut it and formed it suitably. The pulling itself started off slowly and it wasn’t until about fifteen minutes in that I started to intuitively observe what I should and shouldn’t be doing to get the desired results. Overall, after about half-an-hour I had – along with a sore arm – ten or so handles of which about half would prove to be workable attachments onto my waiting mug-forms. After this I fancied some throwing and threw down three lumps. The first throwdown came out as bulbous bud-vase of sorts, the second and third attempts were scrapped. Less intent on getting forms off the wheel I was satisfied enough with warming my throwing after sixty hours off the hotseat. Time for lunch and then back to attach those handles. The results were far from attractive but as with the pulling I did learn a few lessons and hone my coordination at this task. More throwing followed and I got an okay 3”/3” mug shape with perpendicular sides off the wheel to end the day. Tomorrow could be the day I collect the bisque-fired pots... 

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HP ready for whatever tomorrow brings. 

12:55 – 13:45 

14:07 – 14:55 

15:23 – 16:10 

17:18 – 17:40 JOURNAL 

TOTAL 2H 47M 

22/02/2021 MONDAY: 

It was a crazy glazy day. Late yesterday evening I received the email that I had been waiting for. It was from Stephan and to my great joy it said that all my pots had been fired and could be collected tomorrow. Tomorrow was today. I woke up and proceeded with my morning in the usual manner. By the time I was ready to begin with clay proceedings it was about nine forty-five and I was in two minds as to get my hands on some clay by doing some sorely missed wedging down in the basement or to just relax for half-an-hour before setting out for Stephan’s studio in town. He had told me to come at the same time as on Friday when the pots were delivered by Robert and I. Today a lift was not offered and so I would take the bus from just outside the house which conveniently went to just outside Stephan’s studio on the other side of Sheffield. For pot-transportation I had my thirty-five Litre capacity trekking rucksack with two sturdy plastic and multiple sheets of bubble wrap therein. Having about thirty pots to collect and then transport home on public transport I was taking all necessary precautions to keep them safe, especially the handles. That is if the handles survived the firing, Stephan had informed me in his email of last night that there were a couple of breakages. My mind had been reeling about how I was going to go about glazing the pots and where I could fire them if Stephan couldn’t.  

The bus journey went smoothy and I arrived at Stephan’s studio at around ten forty-five AM. There on the table just inside the studio entrance were my beloved pots. It was in this spot that I had seen other amateur potters collecting they’re freshly fired pieces and now it was my turn. They had been neatly and compactly wrapped in newspaper and placed in the same plastic vegetable boxes that they had arrived in. I glanced at the textural and colouring contrasts of the newspaper with the terracotta orangey, browny, red breaking through and into the dullness of the newspaper. The first thing Stephan and I addressed was the two breakages. When he said ‘a couple of breakages’ in his email I had assumed it would be more than a few but to my delight it was indeed a precise use of the often loosely employed term. Two bases had blown out. One of the bulky terracotta mugs and the big two-pound plant pot. Even though this was the biggest piece fired – all the other pieces were only a pound or slightly over when thrown down onto my wheel – I was only ever so slightly disappointed. Besides everything else had survived including the handles on the other mugs and the handle on my treasured stoneware jug form.  

I didn’t that moment delve into investigating my newly transformed pots by the bisque-firing of up to 950 degrees Celsius. Instead Stephan and I sat across from one another and made small talk catching up about all the usual things. On Friday the atmosphere had been quite different. Stephan and I were both due somewhere else that morning. Today however we had nowhere else to be and consequently time for talk.  

After some very pleasant chatting we turned our attention to my pots and the question of how I would be glazing them arose. I very hesitantly told Stephan about the brush-on stoneware glazes I had at home and communicated that I would try glazing them at home. Sensing my obvious lack of confidence in this plan it slowly came about that Stephan would facilitate me glazing the pots in his studio and would thereafter do the second glaze-firing. I wasn’t able to disguise my enthusiasm when he tentatively said as much.  

My wonderful Pottery guide Stephan had once again given me a big helping-hand in progressing my experience and enlarging my joy in the craft of pottery. I would be glazing my pots with his guidance – amazing. The process was pleasantly protracted and there continued much talk and several cups of tea before and at different intervals of the glazing process. Arriving at ten forty-five I didn’t leave until the scheduled time of four PM. Stephan had planned on doing his own work today but instead spent his time helping and hosting me.  

To get the ball rolling Stephan glazed three of my pieces in two glazes I had selected – a clear glaze that made the stoneware beige look very attractive and a plain white glaze, given its whiteness by tin oxide. He demonstrated three different combinations being: The same glaze inside and outside, one glaze inside the other outside and a half-and-half coating of the same glaze on the outside. Below are two pieces glazed by Stephan. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Stephan’s demonstrations provided the confidence boost I needed. After watching the YouTube videos yesterday and the tiny but important actual experience of having glazed two pieces myself last year I was ready to start what would be the glazing of all my pieces save three. The next four-and-a-half hours would for me pass at a disconcertingly rapid speed. 

 While glazing today I was absolutely focussed. When I was receiving guidance from Stephan still utterly focussed. When I was listening to Stephan tell me about his elderly parent’s recent shoulder operation still absolutely focussed. For the entirety of four-and-a-half hours I rode a wave of intense presence and which honoured every activity my mind engaged in. This state of mind wasn’t surprising as after all this was it. This was the final stage in a process that had been playing out for the last two months. I was even glazing pieces that had been thrown last year! The glaze is the skin of the pot and just like with anything else the skin is important! Glazing can be breathtakingly gorgeous, whisperingly beautiful, powerfully elegant and it can also be a total disaster. With Stephan’s presence and being within the environment of his studio I had no fear of the last description being possible for my pieces. He had shown me enough, the glazes were good and I was steadfast, unerring, totally ‘in flow’. And that’s why four-and-a-half hours barely felt like one this afternoon.  

To begin I separated the stoneware from the terracotta. I then divided the stoneware into five groups of two or three pieces. I would glaze the groups with the same glazes and in the same manner. After getting through about two thirds I felt enough of my most prized pieces were safe having been conservatively glazed with the clear and white glazes. It was time to invite some colour into mix. I opted for a subtle blue/grey colour called ‘OCEAN’ I proceeded glazing in the same way but with the colour on the outside of the pieces and dipping the rims for a variation every now and again. All the stoneware complete I checked in with Stephan got the go-ahead to move onto the terracotta which would be a more substantial task. All the forms made of terracotta would be glazed in the white tin oxide as I didn’t like any of the other effects. Layering colours onto terracotta meant the colour would be significantly altered compared to the almost white stoneware forms. The dark red colour of a terracotta clay body impacts the appearance of any and all glazes differently. Because of this it was my intention to glaze all the terracotta pieces in the white tin oxide glaze first and then add colour on top. In the end colour was only desired and applied to about half of these pieces. I used the same blue/grey ‘OCEAN’ glaze and also brought in another colour which was a green/grey of similar effect. I must shamelessly admit that I didn’t want to experiment or have a learning experience of glazing today, all I wanted was to play it safe and give my work the best possible chance of coming out of the final glaze firing as attractive ceramics. That experimentation and learning could of course occur on other bodies of work in the future but not today, not these pieces. These pieces had too much riding on them. 

Before I knew it Stephan started loading the kiln, I was nearing the end of my work but remained staunchly anchored in the present moment.  

“This bowl - hold the foot - pour in the white glaze - now dip the bowl – careful - now control the drip, catch it before it runs!  

Not that paintbrush that’s for the green glaze, yes that one, catch all the drips for a smooth finish - on the all-important rim especially - put him down gently - and get the next piece. Good man, well done.” 

And so went my internal commentary. It went on until I was bringing the last pieces to the kiln and helping make space to squeeze in the very last piece on the top kiln-shelf. They fitted, just like on the first firing, exactly into the kiln to the last inch. The kiln lid closed (not before I captured a photo) and Stephan began talking about the firing-program - that he would increase the soaking-period to let the freshly applied glazes dry before the rapid heating began. I didn’t really understand this jargon but my job was over, the rest was up to Stephan, the kiln and the kiln Gods.  

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And what now dear reader? All that remained then was to say many “Thank You's” to Stephan as well as pay him his ever-modest charges – so modest are they that on this occasion I insisted the charge be increased – and we parted ways agreeing that he would be in touch on Wednesday about a collection time. And what will these pots, my pots look like on Wednesday? Will there be even a hint of powerful elegance, whispering beauty or breath-taking gorgeousness. Reader I sincerely doubt it but maybe there could be one or two hints of the innocent, ardent hatchling potter amidst the blues, greens and half-dipped whites. 

A somewhat stunned HP out. 

(I didn’t use my time-log app today. Being at Stephan’s studio glazing and chatting in almost equal measure for 5½ hours it seems fair to allocate today as a three hour clay-day). 

3H 0M STEPHAN’S STUDIO GLAZING 

1H 0M JOURNAL 

TOTAL 4H 0M 

23/02/21 TUESDAY: 

Ah what a clay-day! Without a doubt my throwing levelled-up during the three throwing sessions of this windy but mild February day. I don’t know what happened but whatever I did on the wheel today just worked. Maybe it’s the relief from glazing and seeing the final stage completed where thereafter the potter has no more power over his work. Even less so in my case as I have no working knowledge of kilns and the firing process. So even if Stephan had let me camp-out overnight in his studio to stare at the kiln and meditate next to it, the moment the kiln-lid was shut down on my precious first ever body of ceramic work my part was played.  

Whatever the cause the results and process came as a delightful surprise. Considering that I had not thrown very much over the past few days and that my results from the wheel on Sunday were lack lustre made it especially pleasing. Right from the first throwdown which was a standard one-pound lump of clay the tone was set for a ground-breaking day.  

 

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The cylinder above is my best ever. It comes up to 5.3” and is just under 3” in diameter. Almost perfectly perpendicular sides and a structurally sound form with the ideal slight thinning of the pot’s walls as one moves up from the base to the rim. I don’t remember how many pulls I did but I do remember that they were all pre-planned and my success was borne from awareness of my usual failings. I was scrupulous about checking the thickness of this pot’s walls from base to rim before each of the later more tenuous lifts and each time made a mental note of where the walls were thinnest. Consequently, I was able to pull clay up from the thicker areas while merely sliding my fingers gently over the thinner sections. With my habit-pattern these areas are typically in the top-section of the pot and most sensitively just under the pot’s rim. I marvelled at the dizzying height of the pot and thought I might get a bad case of vertigo. I’m not queasy about heights in the least but watching this pot grow ever taller at my caresses made me feel just that way. But the prevailing emotion was a joyous disbelief as I stood by and witnessed another stride forward in my capabilities at the potter’s wheel. After this was safely removed from the wheel and put onto a piece of slate to dry overnight I moved onto to the next throwdown. I didn’t dare try another cylinder knowing myself to be excited and full of expectations and so tried a bowl. It didn’t go well. The dizzying glee of the cylinder had fried my nerves and I retired for an early tea-break.  

I spent the break watching a close-up video of Simon Leach throwing bowls and returned to the pop-up studio with instructions fresh in my mind and following them worked out quite well. After successfully getting a small bowl off the wheel I reached for a one-and-a-half pound ball of terracotta and after some more time ‘in flow’ this turned into the biggest bowl I’ve thrown to date. It would seem that today was the day of giants. 

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At this point I received word from Robert that he had finished his meeting on Zoom. I had intended to start my clay-day with wedging in the basement but the reverberations from slamming the clay down caused quite a distraction in Robert’s room and so I was requested to postpone this process. Now though I was able to do just this and considering the now stupor I found myself in due to the seemingly faultless throwing at the wheel I was happy to step away for a more mundane and predictable task. It's an odd thing to relate but despite my quest for improvement and progress when the results actually come to fruition and things really do progress, I actually find this experience quite intimidating. I find such moments of breakthrough come with a tremendous amount of energy which manifests as a powerful excitement. Perhaps the best performers in the world are those that can manipulate, manage and harness this unique energy that results from exceptional performance. For me it comes with a certain joy that is almost uncontainable and so slightly unnerving. Simply put its amazing.  

Little did I know that after taking my lunch-break, I would reignite this feeling with forming a cylinder from a one-and-a-half pound ball of clay. I was really throwing caution to the wind with these big lumps of clay and at this reflective vantage point at nine-eighteen PM in the evening I was absolutely right to. With another utterly focussed throwing performance, accompanied by the same scrupulous attention, alongside effective responses another mighty cylinder was created.

The vertigo was back as I intermittently checked the progress of this ever-growing brown slimy titan in my profile-mirror between lifts. Despite my intense excitement and glee at witnessing what I was able to throw up into the heavens seemingly I remained anchored in the present moment and managed to remain composed. Such was my confidence and exuberance that I considered trying to make this cylinder into a jug but that would have been foolhardy as I had already stretched the walls quite thin. Instead, it came off the wheel-head as a monolith to represent this day as my crowning success at throwing tall straight cylinders. 

 Calming down after another tea-break I returned to the wheel to throw a small bowl. The last two throws of the day would both be big and ambitious. I would on both these throwdowns pull up tall cylinders, it was the next step of trying to make a jug shape that was met with failure both times. I think that I was over-ambitious in throwing too tall and therefore having the clay walls too thin to endure being manipulated into the jug shape. The second attempt however came close but eventually after I searched for the satisfactory form collapsed. I did manage to catch a photo for the record and perhaps as it still stands on the wheel now (and will remain in situ overnight) I’ll be reminded the eternal lesson that the quest for perfection is doomed from the outset.  

With a shower and several evening activities planned the day of the giants was over. Yesterday I glazed like tomorrow wouldn’t come, today I threwdown like never before. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll collect my glaze-fired pots thus meeting my maker #”meet my made rather”#.  

Who knows how I’ll feel upon entering Stephan’s studio and seeing them after their dramatic final transformation, whether at that moment I’ll long for the glories of yesterday or pulse with expectations of tomorrow. Best case scenario: I’ll remain present, as ever is the case. From the ceramics suppliers in Doncaster to a delivery van and then home. A journey spanning four months, of many hours wedging, kneading, throwing, trimming. From clay lumps to pots ready for life and love as part of the world of things. Dear Reader wish my pots luck for their journey ahead! 

A spellbound hatchling Potter signing out on this windy February evening.  

10:16 – 11:04 

11:35 – 12:50 

14:17 – 14:58  

15:15 – 16:00 

20:40 – 21:41 JOURNAL 

TOTAL 4h 22M 

24/02/21 WEDNESDAY: 

The day has passed as I write these words now at nine PM. As for the pots... Well let's not beat around the bush dear Reader for we know one another too well by this point. Here are the pots: 

I am utterly overjoyed. It might take some time for this day to sink in

but for the moment I know of no other way to express myself than

through the exclamation of sheer joy, pride, satisfaction. These pots,

these beautiful things stand for several months of endeavour.

They represent not only my work but also the help of several

others - Robert and Stephan being the foremost amongst these people.

And not forgetting YouTube’s wonderful Mr. Simon Leach and my remote throwing instructor.  

To bring some structure back into this usually very chronologically-oriented blog I will begin with the morning. I was into my pop-up studio by ten-twenty AM and got right into pulling some handles. On another day I would have immediately started with throwing down however after yesterday’s exertions I felt a warm-up activity was required - practising pulling handles was the ideal thing. I don’t demote the process of pulling handles to a mere warm-up activity, indeed as many potters will emphasize this skill is as much an art as throwing at the wheel. Besides my handle-pulling needed practice and I had loose intentions of making some mug forms today which would naturally require handles. This was only my third time pulling handles and it went much better than the first and second attempts. How true that there is just no substitute for experience. One can watch a million YouTube tutorials on how to perform the various processes in pottery but until hands are laid on clay and these procedures are tried there can be no advancement, not even an inch. I noticed several unhelpful tendencies in my handle-pulling and with the exerted effort of awareness to undo these habitual actions I got the best harvest of handles yet.  

The two-pound lump of terracotta almost exhausted by my yanks the handle-pulling came to it’s natural end. Now it was time for the wheel, the same wheel that had sent me near ga-ga mad yesterday with the tall cylinders that it facilitated the creation of. Whether it was fatigue from yesterday’s throwing antics or anxiety that I wouldn’t be able to replicate yesterday's success I couldn’t say, but sure enough today’s throwing was a struggle. Thank goodness I had not set any ambitious intentions. The way my hands, the wheel and clay combined today was very different to yesterday. What a mysterious symbiosis of human, machine and earth the potter at her wheel is. After about half-an-hour I’d struggled through to get one mug off the wheel-head and also had one collapse. Time for the treasured and rejuvenating tea-break. I didn’t even bother to watch a YouTube tutorial on throwing as is my custom during this morning tea-break but instead opted for a video I had seen before on centring. It was a good decision as I picked up some subtilties from Mr. Simon Leach that I had missed the first time around.  

Is all improvement in any process or activity merely a journey from the gross to the subtle? 

Back to the wheel after checking my phone for any word from Stephan for about the sixteenth time since finishing breakfast at around nine-thirty. Nothing yet and so I sat back down to the wheel and met with some improvement. This one-hour long session yielded some more clay to be recycled but also three more mug-forms. The last of these forms may not find being labelled a mug particularly flattering however. This piece of clay which I had intentions for to become a bowl decided for itself what it would be. After removing my fingertips from the rim for the third and final time I looked at the form left behind spinning on the wheel and the word ‘Tea-bowl!’ jumped into my mind with some force. “Fair enough” I thought and by supressing my thirst for control and command over my material I went about removing the slurry from the sides of this self-fulfilling tea-bowl and took it from off the wheel-head.  

After washing and drying my hands I picked up my phone and there was the much-anticipated text message from Stephan. He was already at the studio and I could come anytime. Robert had generously agreed to drive us there for collection and within about fifteen minutes we were enroute. Arriving without incident to Stephan’s studio I left Robert in the car to go up to the studio. I was wired, completely electrified. I had been such all morning and now as I climbed the metal stairs to the studio I was seconds away from witnessing what had become of my treasured, intimately beloved pots.  

What would I find up there?  

What colour would they be?  

Would any of not survived?  

This was the first time I had ever done this and I really did not know what to expect, at all. Monday’s glazing had been a haze of whirlwind. Whirlpools in the glaze buckets as I mixed them before dipping a bowl, or was it a cup? Should that have been white inside and cream outside or the other way around?  

The pieces had gone into the kiln with thick glazes, others with thin. Surely it had all gone wrong apart from the ones that Stephan had done himself - but that was only three pieces. The rest I was flying solo making it up as I went along. But then again there was that utter focus, the flow was there no doubt. I was a complete beginner to glazing pots but at every moment during Monday’s time at the studio there was that...  

I pushed the door into the studio and saw the reassuring and welcoming countenance of Stephan. He said that he hadn’t unloaded the kiln because perhaps I had wanted to see the kiln-lid as it lifted, witness the big reveal in all its drama.  

I don’t know what I said in reply. I think I asked him how he was but we were both intent on opening the kiln and so we did. He lifted the lid and in short, we were both delightedly surprised - it was after all a total collaboration. My pottery guide had made this moment possible, this beautiful moment where we both admired happily the beauty and majesty of creativity through combining clay and glaze. I felt utterly blessed, completely jammy. The pots were beautiful. Of course, there were a number that were flawed from my unskilled glazing but most, probably around 80% were just wonderful. The blue, the white, the green, the subtle beige of the stoneware beautified by the clear glaze. As always I was controlled and socially restrained despite the gravity and shock this moment had caused within me. As we unloaded the kiln small-talk reigned supreme and continued until I departed. Stephan brought one of the three boxes down to the street so I could load the car in one trip. As I took the box from his arms I beamed at him in gratitude and a resplendent happiness, he beamed right back and wished me well. 

Robert was pretty cool after having to wait for a length of time I couldn’t determine, that helped ground me a bit. I wanted to explode into celebration but of course didn’t. After all this was just a few boxes of handmade ceramics and I was just another hatchling potter. This moment wouldn’t mean even one thousandth to any other person of what it meant to me. Hours, days, weeks, months were in those boxes. The play; the dance between my hands and the clay were in those boxes. They were beautiful and I was content.  

Naturally the rest of the afternoon was dedicated to photographing the pots. I wanted to create a portfolio of this my first work and with Robert’s help took some lovely pictures of the pots. 

Fit for public consumption I think you’ll agree dear reader. Later in the afternoon we had tea to christen two of the mugs and this evening we ate fruit and yoghurt from two of the bowls. All stoneware and well glazed mind you, I’m not taking any risks with the terracotta pieces leaking! Well not yet anyway. 

A reeling HP out and due in Cambridge tomorrow afternoon. This then may be the last entry for five days. Tomorrow will be a dull clay-day tidying down the pop-up studio to again be a front-room. 

10:21 – 11:30 

12:10 – 13:04 

15:26 – 17:06 PHOTOGRAPHY 

21:00 – 22:02 JOURNAL 

TOTAL 4H 45M