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mugs are a kindness/ tiny teapots

updated mon 24 jan 05


primalmommy on sun 23 jan 05

I fully understand the changing-with-the-times conversation but have to
say how grateful I am that big dog potters make mugs and small cups to
bring to workshops. I could never, at this stage of the game, buy a Jack
Try, a David Hendley, a Mel Jacobsen, a Tony Clennell, a Karen Terpstra
and a Mark Issenberg pot and have any money left over for groceries.. if
not for the humble cup.

I have one of each in my cupboard and consider them an investment in my
children's education. I would not easily put a hundred dollar pot into
their hands, but cups/mugs are a lesson in use and impermanence. They
request a particular mug -- David's bumpy shiny gold pony hoof, and
Jack's white-lined calico cup are favories (along with the special cups
I made each of them for Christmas: Molly's imprinted with a cat paw,
Connors' with a tiny handprint, Tyler's with a bionicle mask.) I have a
lovely stony-matt dark green mel mug with speckles that I keep for me,
because I like the way it feels in my hand.

The big drippy ash glazed Issenberg mugs, my littlest could take a bath
in, so those are our Sunday morning
don't-need-to-keep-getting-up-to-refill-it mugs for sunday paper
breakfasts. And Tony's shino mug with the sensual peach-looking thing
brushworked onthe side is my computer mug.

Karen Terpstra's crunchy wood fired horse mug fit perfectly in the cup
holder in my car but, alas, came to a bad end.. is now epoxied back
together for decorative, rather than functional use. So far its function
is to sit on the shelves of my own pots, so that when somebody stands
perusing my work, they can reach for THAT mug and say, "Now, THIS one I
REALLY like.."

It keeps me humble.

It is warming up into the double digits (Farenheit) so I am headed to
the studio in hubby's padded carharts to make 8 lids for my 8 tiny
teapots. It was nice, last night in the studio when my hands froze up
and started dropping things, to be able to put 8 teapots and a dozen
spouts and various parts on a single bat and come inside to assemble
them at the kitchen table.

It has been an exercise in design, somehow. I am more willing to try
this handle and that, a jaunty lid, various spout with and without
scroti... It was an exercise in tool making, as well. I ground and
sanded wooden chopsticks into useful shapes, threw very very dry and
mopped up with a q-tip.

It's a little depressing that a whole day's work will only fill a few
inches of shelf space in the kiln, though. Glazing will be an
interesting challenge as well.

Kelly in Ohio... in a marshmallow snow world with a blazing blue sky.

P.S. Lili and chicken politics: The reds are generally of the Rhode
Island variety, though I don't claim to know where they were schooled.
You know kids these days, though. There is a new nudist breed (mutation)
that is completely featherless, no doubt somebody's idea for saving time
in processing. They are ridiculous looking things, especially the odd
little wings that look absurdly small and ready for barbecue sauce. They
are naked, but not voluntarily -- in fact the entire chicken is the same
bright red as the comb atop its head, and thus looks either sunburned or
terribly embarrassed.

Poetically the Americanas chicken lays eggs of every color, including
blues and greens... an inspiring thing.

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