an anthology

The 2nd Occasional Cup and Mug Sale

 

Let me start with a huge thank you to all those who came out to spend a little hard earned cash on a mug and donate a backpack for a junior high!! Also, thank you to all the artists that participated in the sale – couldn’t have done it without you.

Our goal was to collect new backpacks for a local junior high by creating a big tadoo about cups and mugs. Here’s the Cliff Note version of the sale weekend: 32 participating artists, 576 mugs and cups, ¼ of our inventory sold in the first hour of the 10 hour sale, awarded 8 mixed sets of cups and mugs to drawing entrants, and (this is the very best part!) collected 55 new backpacks for one grateful junior high school.

That was fun!

Dear John, you left so soon

On the morning of October 13, 2014 my studio-mate from graduate school passed away. He was 54.

John and I shared a divided 500-600 square feet of studio space during grad school. He always had parts and pieces scattered about (drove me crazy).

John’s studio space, 1989.

Somewhere in his process all these parts made sense.

I considered him a friend. Graduate school creates a special bond – cemented by stress and lack of sleep. We tried to provide practical support for each other. For instance, John helped document a large site specific piece for me and another grad student. By document, I mean – he ran along the Mill Avenue bridge at the break of dawn for three consecutive days photographing our progress as we worked to draw from the shadows cast on the dry rocky bed of the Salt River. I bought breakfast.

On one particularly cold morning, I rid the studio of the black widow that made her home under the wall heater, next to the switch. (John had grown considerably weary of arachnids after sleeping with a scorpion on more than one occasion) He bought me lunch.

And so it went….

John seemed to lose his way a bit during grad school. But, I’m confident he was drawn back before he left us so soon for home.

A Conductive carbon

I’ve been working on what seems like the longest continual commission ever – that, from this day forward shall be referred to as ‘the dinnerware’. My progress has been stymied by an unruly class schedule, a cup and mug sale, kiln repairs, and a clay problem.

With my class schedule under control and the sale a thing of the past, I’ve only got the kiln and clay issues to solve. (which are really linked…I think)

It seems in my attempt to squeeze the last red cent from my turnip, I inadvertently doubled my trouble.

The setting:
I’d been keeping an eye on a sagging element near the bottom of the kiln. If I could just get one more firing in….(that went all wrong) After a slower that normal bisque firing, I checked the elements before reloading and noticed the sagging element touching itself on the return. All the current was running through about six inches of the element (yeah, yeah…replace the element and get on with it)

The conflict:
A month or so later, I’m unloading a glaze and notice micro-bloats* on the work – actually, only the mugs. (geeze, just in time for a mug sale. perfect.) After considerable research and a few impromptu interviews, I’ve come up with a theory. A theory that may well violate one or more laws of thermodynamics, but….

 

The foil:
My fuzzy science suggests a few things (and some stuff I actually know…like, actually)

  • the clay I’m using has been known by ceramic artists to bloat. The manufacturer disagrees, but suggests firing the bisque to cone 04 as a means to remove all organics. (not sure what’s in this clay that survives 1860°F…but, okay)
  • during at least one bisque firing, the second to the bottom element shorted itself; creating a smaller circuit with half the resistance.
  • the mugs were loaded on the bottom.
  • the shorted element would create uneven heat in the kiln – a cooler bottom.
  • (here’s the fuzzy part) the shorted element would create a voltaic arc, releasing a conductive carbon into the kiln’s atmosphere; meaning there was some localized reduction going on.

The moral:
A penny saved isn’t worth the price of that turnip.

*bloat: the permanent swelling of a ceramic article during firing caused by the evolution of gases. (sounds a bit like too many chimichangas, eh)

 



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