Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Coincidence or Destiny?

Sometimes a series of events that are so inter-related occur in such a short period of time that it seems  like the Universe is speaking to us. Sometimes the message needs repeating 4 or 5 times to get our attention or to make sure we are listening. Within the past 2 months I have received those messages so loud and clear, I have no choice but to respond by taking action!

In August a dear friend asked me to make a set of baking dishes for a special event. The order was for a small casserole suited for a newlywed couple, a larger one for the brides parents, and an open long dish for baking.
Custom set of oven ware
While I was working on this commission,  I was reminded of how enjoyable it is to produce solid, well crafted functional pottery, and why I learned to work in clay in the first place. What joy I felt in producing three coordinated pieces with well fitting lids and decorative but functional handles.

A month or two before the casserole project information about a Potters Council workshop landed in my email box. Feeling for some time that I needed to trump up my skills in forming and surface decoration, I registered for the workshop and marked my calendar. More about the workshop later, but I mention it because it may have been the first in this series of messages from the great beyond.

My third synchronicity happened in the form of a conversation I had with one young potter Jordan Meyers. Jordan participated in our Open Studio Tour this year, and snagged a commission to make 90 cider tasting mugs for the "Cider Swig" event. At the event, he and I engaged in a congenial conversation about our common interest in functional pottery- agreeing that people will always need bowls and plates and mugs- so why not well made, hand made? Looking over Jodan's beautifully executed work, I silently committed to doing more thrown, functional pottery- I longed to get back to my roots.

The next message came in the form of a notice on a list-serve I subscribe to, for a talk by one Nora Vaillant. An American living in Canada, trained as an anthropologist, but a working potter for 20 years. Nora's subject was "On the Road with John Reeve's", someone I had never heard of- but the lead-in for the talk mentioned an overview of the Leach/Hamada ttradition in studio pottery

Warren MacKenzie
Bernard Leach. The farther of modern Studio pottery
  When I enrolled in a college level ceramics program in the early 70's, the American Studio Pottery movement was alive and strong. It carries an ethos that work should be well crafted, functional, and pleasing to the eye. My early training taught me "form follows function"- what good is a tea-pot that doesn't pour properly? Or a mug that isn't pleasing on the lips? Or a pitcher that is too heavy to lift and is unbalanced? My instructor, Bob Lundeen insisted on fine craftsmanship, teaching us how to trim foot rims and burnish bottoms and to be mindful of glaze applications.
Shoji Hamada
 Ms. Vaillant showed a bevy of slides of work by Reeves, Leach and Hamada. Reeves served as an apprentice at the Leach Pottery in St Ive's, England.He also became a life-long friend of Warren MacKenzie- another Leach apprentice in the 1950's. On our drive home from the talk, I told hubby that I had an epiphany- I had lost my way in my desire to be a good studio potter, and I was returning to my roots- ASAP!

Meanwhile, I had received an invitation to lunch at at friend's home to see her newly acquired set of beautiful hand thrown porcelain dinnerware. She was looking for some help in identifying it, and and I offered to take a look at it. When I picked up the first piece, I was so touched by that studio potter ethic shining through it. The potters signature on the bottom said "Leah".
With a little effort, my friend was able to identify the potter as Leah Boehm,  http://leahboehm.com/pottery.htmhttp://leahboehm.com/pottery.htm and she lives not far from here, in Federal Way. She also learned her ceramics skills at the college level in the 70's- the same as I!  We have exchanged a couple emails and talked on the phone. Next week I am going to visit her in her studio and in January take a few classes from her to top up my technical skills. 

NOW! Back to the workshop!
Attending this wonderful 2 day intense workshop hosted by Georgies in Portland, was just the push I needed to get back to my roots. Each of the four very skilled potters who demonstrated had new ideas for me on how to express my own voice in my pottery. I was reminded of skills and techniques I have forgotten over the years, and learned many new ones. 
Watching Randy and Jan MacKeachie Johnston pass the talking stick back and forth all day Saturday, left me with an intense emotion of the positivity in ones life that working with clay can bring. Randy shared how making templates for certain shapes can offer uniformity between pieces, and support during the drying process. He also discussed yunomi's, or Japanese tea cups, and the tradition and making of same- I plan to do a series.
 Jan's natural approach to appreciating the fluidity of our medium reminded me to allow the clay to appear soft and supple in the finished work. Her folded baskets, inspired by native birch baskets, and her handled baskets are a thing of beauty. Jan's strap handles set off a lightbulb in my head as a way to enhance my hanging birdbaths as well as my little relish dishes. Their six hour demonstration ( three hours in the morning, and three in the afternoon) was filled with joy and laughter and affection for each other, as well as for all of us in their audience.
Sunday was divided into two separate workshops- in the morning  we spent three hours with Sarah Pike, and in the afternoon with Martina Lantin. 
Sweet Sarah Pike makes pottery as lovely as she is. Her pieces are clean, well thought out, and precise. Sarah has given much thought to efficiency in her practice out of necessity to balance her busy life with her art. Sarah lives on a cattle ranch in Canada, and is very connected to the natural and aesthetic world around her. Her teapots are reminiscent of an old oil can, and she often decorates her pottery  with images from nature. 
Sarah demonstrated her technique for making multiple slab cups by setting up a production process. She rolls her slabs by hand, measures and cuts carefully, stamps her designs, and allows the strips to firm up a little on cement board. The use of cement board in the studio is a revelation to me... Home Depot- here I come! Her teapots retire 23 separate pieces- talk about commitment to a process! 
Sarah develops her own glazes, works in cone 6 clay and fires in an electric kiln. 

Martina Lantin comes from a background of production pottery, where making multiples of one item over and over again, exactly the same, was the order of the day. When she moved into doing her own work, Martina developed techniques for making her work her own in an organic, hand made evident, sort of way. She demonstrated a couple techniques I have never thought of nor seen done previously. 
First, Martina threw a cup on the wheel- typical enough- but THEN! she cut it off it's base, removed the cylinder to a bat, and sliced down the side. The next step was to reconnect the side, producing an evident seam, enlarge the base remaining on the wheel slightly, and set the cup back on it. Making sure the two pieces were firmly attached, she then cut the whole thing off and set it aside, allowing it to dry sufficiently before cleaning it up a little and attaching a handle. The result is a soft, fluid feel that makes you want to pick the cup up and hold it.
Martina also demonstrated making a bowl with an altered rim, by cutting the rim off, laying it aside, and reattaching it. Fabulous look. But the thing about her demonstration that jiggled my brain the most was her use of paper stencils and masks to decorate her pottery, using slips, stains and underglazes. I am still thinking this whole process through and figuring out how I may apply it to my work.  

Each of the four potters stressed three major points in their demos:
1. Be generous with your clay so you will have enough to work with in the forming, trimming and finishing stages of your piece.
2. Give your piece "air" and "volume", being ever cognizant of the space inside  of it as well as the aesthetic of the surface.
3. Allow your work to express your own voice, so that your audience will relate to you and your individual work. 

Additionally, there was mention in nearly every demonstration of the Leach/Hamada ethic and legacy. Practice, practice, practice in your practice. Only by making and making again will you refine your skills and express yourself in your work. Craftsmanship is paramount, regardless of your style. There is a demand for solid, functional pottery which can be used to fill the needs of everyday life.

So much of the need of my daily life is filled by my own work in clay. My little studio offers me sanctuary and solitude. Clay is a soft, malleable medium that soothes the soul when worked with the hands and it offers the imagination an infinite opportunity for creativity.
I cannot imagine my life with out clay in it- perhaps it is destiny? B

Sunday, June 19, 2016

"Live well, Love much, Laugh often"

While working in my studio a couple days ago, beautiful music playing on Pandora, I experienced a sudden epiphany! In a flash, out of the blue, it occurred to me that I am in all probability approximately 3/4 of the way through my life. Which means, in all probability I have approximately 1/4 of my life left to live,  a conclusion I have reached because my mother is nearly 97 years old and shows no sign of failing anytime soon.

Reaizing  that I may well have 25 years or so left, it occurs to me that I should figure out how I want to spend it. It is enough time to accomplish a great deal, too much time to just fritter away, not enough time to waste.

So, my first thoughts wax  philosophical. "Live well, Love much, Laugh often". To me, living well means enjoying the fruits of our labors, being good stewards of our physical belongings and finances,  staying in the moment, enjoying the company of our friends and family, and taking good care of my personal health. Loving  much means giving my heart fully to those close to me, embracing the natural beauty that surrounds me, and filling myself with experiences that beautify and intensify the human spirit. Laughing often means surrounding myself with positive people and experiences. Casting off and leaving behind the negativity and criticisms that can easily surface when faced with adversity in ideas, politics, news casts.

In this frenzy of thought, I feel as if I've experienced a sort of re-birth. I'm new again looking forward to whatever wonders and pleasures the future will bring. I feel ready to step up and out, to try new experiences, take a few (small) risks by stepping out of my comfort zone and meeting some new challenges.

When we baptize or dedicate a new baby, we as a community pledge to look after that child physically, and spiritually and to help her grow into a loving, kind, knowledgeable person who will be capable of reaching her full potential. I am asking my community- my family, my tribe- to help me  as I take my first steps into the next quarter - plus or minus- of my life.

If I am frowning, remind me to smile.
If you love me, tell me so- and allow me to tell you that I love you.
Invite me to participate with you in cultural activities which enhance and beautify the human spirit.
Allow me to help you when you need it- and remind me to allow you to help me, too.
Remind me to engage only in positive conversation about anything- people, places and things- to cast off negative thoughts and words.

I believe there is hope for me-
  • Grandma Moses didn't pick up a paint brush until she was 76 because she could no longer hold an embroidery needle due to her crippling from arthritis.
  • Laura Ingalls Wilder published a book at 73.
  • Julia Childs first appeared on TV at 51- and worked until her death in her 90's. 
  • Potter Beatrice Wood died at 105 and was in her ceramic studio producing work (with help, of course) until a very short time before her death. She didn't even become known for her pottery until she was in her 70's.
  • And Hillary Clinton is 69!

Saturday, March 12, 2016

Processing, Digesting, Moving forward,

When a friend passes from this life to the next, there is a wave of emotion that overtakes us. Emotion that is different from our response to the passing of a family member. Depending on the closeness of the friend, or the circumstances surrounding the death we are affected in different ways. We react with resignation of a death caused by a grave or prolonged illness, and sometimes even relief that our friend no longer need suffer. We react with shock at the suddenness of an unexpected death, particularly when there is no indication there would be anything to cause such  happenstance to occur. 
So it is with the recent loss of a sweet friend several years my junior, healthier than I, in the prime of her life, and at a peak when she expressed to a friend that everything in her life was wonderful. She was married to her beloved, all of her children and grandchildren are well and happy, she just started a new career, and had recently started singing with a group she had aspired to join for quite some time. She ate well, exercised regularly, had a healthy social life and knew herself emotionally and spiritually. 
Cheri Patch was the embodiment of everything conventional wisdom tells us is necessary for a long, fruitful and satisfying life. But Cheri went to bed a week ago and didn’t wake up the next morning. I know none of the details except that she was in her daughter’s home and had spent the evening playing her guitar and singing to a new grandchild, who was just a few days old. 
So today, several hundred members of her church community, her musical community, her volunteer community, her book club, her choral group, her very large family and our Gig Harbor community at large, gathered in Cheri’s house of worship and said goodbye. It was a tearful funeral but it was also a beautiful, moving, and in many ways joyful tribute to Cheri and her amazing life. These thoughts bring me to the subject of funerals. 
It’s easy to skip a funeral. We can justify not attending by saying there will be so many others there I won’t be missed. Some think funerals are barbaric, unnecessary, or ghoulish. There have been times when I have avoided going to a funeral using many of the same excuses, but today I went. I went to Cheri’s funeral because she is part of my circle of friends. Although not close friends, we were affectionately friendly acquaintances. We had shared the same volunteer position in an organization we both love. We have many mutual friends, were in the same book club for awhile, and most recently were walking buddies in a new little walking group we were sharing. I went to Cheri’s funeral because even though I don’t know any of her children, I know of them. I know her husband Dan- who is an artist photographer, and I see him and visit with him at art shows. 
The shock of the news of Cheri’s death washed over me as would a violent sneaker wave on the beach. My first thought being “No, it must be a mistake.” But as the reality began to take hold, my heart began to break for her wonderful family-her daughters, her sons, and her grandchildren. And then I thought of Dan. Cheri was the light of his life. They were one of those couples, gloriously in love, each pursuing that which filled them, each fully supportive of the other. I wondered, then “How will Dan move forward?” This is why I went to Cheri’s funeral. I went to share the grief of her passing with our mutual friends. I went to bear witness to the wonderful life she shared with us all while she was here with us. I went to hug Dan and tell him he has friends- Cheri’s friends who all care deeply for him. 
But I learned a great deal today, too. I learned a few things about a faith that is not my own. I learned that funerals are just as important as baby showers and christenings and birthday parties and weddings and bar mitzvahs and all the other wonderful sacraments and rituals we practice. I learned that what makes us human is celebration. Celebrating the joys of life and also celebrating a life that has ended, even if that celebration is terribly tearful. 

So as I continue to process our loss of Cheri, and we digest the lessons she taught us, my hope is that I will move forward as a better person, just for having known and loved her.

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Just Ducky

I love pate de canard. Or at least I love the idea of it. When we lived in England and several Saturday's a year traversed the Channel to Boulogne, France, we always brought home a treasure from the hypermarket. The treasure was frequently something we had either tasted in a restaurant, or something that was so exotic and intriguing we just had to have it! Once we brought home a sweet little 2 piece ceramic duck which contained duck pate - pate de canard. I remember it as being creamy, mellow, and meltingly delicious on toast squares.

Recently our freezer was overflowing with odds and ends stashed there in frantic moments of food preservation, more desirable than waste by throwing away. In preparation for a trip, I committed to clean out the freezers and either using that which was useable, or discarding that which had succumbed to freezer burn or old age. In recent years as our travels have taken us back to France, I've purchased slivers of various types of pate containing at least a small percentage of duck liver, or other indistinguishable parts of duck. Many of these delicious concoctions included mushrooms or citrus or dried fruits and my freezer gleaning also produced a container of white Oregon truffles. The truffles were discovered and dug by grandson Dillon during an early spring landscape project, but travel prevented us from using them, so they ended up stashed in the back of the freezer in no mans land. Determined to use all my freezer findings in something tasty sent me on a mission, but an hours search through cookbooks and the Internet didn't produce a recipe exactly as I had in mind- so taking the best of several, here is the result.

After thawing overnight, the bony bits and broth of duck left from a dinner a few months back went into a saucepan with bay leaf and thyme, and simmered until the meat slid easily off the little bones.

Next, I sautéed shallots, garlic and herbs in olive oil and butter, and added the chopped liver.
Oregon white truffles, below:

As soon as the liver was gently cooked through about 2 tablespoons of cognac, and 1 tablespoon finely grated white truffle with a good grinding of fresh pepper, a little nutmeg and coarse sea salt were all added to the mixture.  

Meanwhile, I pulled all the meat off the bones of the back and neck and wings and tossed them into my Vita Mix -( LOVE my Vita Mix! I could get a job at Costco selling them) -- along with the heart, gizzard, and whatever indistinguishable little organ thingies I found in the stewing pot.

Next, the warm sautéed liver concoction went into the Vita Mix with the meat, and processed to a fine purée. A little added duck broth smoothed out the consistency, and adjustments were made for final seasoning, I packed the paste into a 4" flan ring and chilled. When set, removed from the mold, iced with a little mayonnaise and decorated, it was ready to serve!

It was just ducky! 

Sunday, September 27, 2015

To the End of the Earth and Back

      Realizing at long last the trip of a lifetime, we boarded the Hurtigruten MS Vesteralen and settled into our little cabin.

      From our porthole we could see the final cargo being loaded and cars boarding the bottom deck, the first of dozens of such views we would experience over the next 12 days.
Soon the bell sounded and the announcement was made that the dinner buffet was ready and waiting. The first night on board the evening dinner was informally served buffet style, but from the next night forward we had an assigned table with 6 other Americans, thankfully at the first seating, which was generally at 6:30.
     As we have not experienced a cruise or even a river boat excursion, everything about this trip was new and wonderful and exciting. The Hurtigruten Coastal Voyage vessels are hybrids between ferries, cruise ships, river boats and cargo ships. They service Norwegian towns and villages -most twice each day - from Bergen to Kirkenes. In 1849 Richard With of Tromso recognized a need to transport mail, cargo and people to otherwise difficult to reach locations along the Norwegian coastline, and set about building a business to accommodate that need. 

Here, the cargo doors are open and goods are being loaded.
      One ship leaves Bergen every evening at precisely 20:00, and takes 12 days to make the round trip. The ports of call visited by day on the northbound trip, are visited at night coming south. Passengers making the entire round trip are treated to an amazing variety of geological as well as architectural sights along the way. 

     The Hurtigruten fleet has ships ranging in passenger capacity from 350 to 1100. The Vesteralen capacity is about 500, but she only has 274 berths in about 160 cabins. The rest are accommodated as day passengers. We saw people getting off and on at nearly every port, and I think the number of us that did the round trip was about a hundred fifty or so. 
     Our table mates came from Florida, Chicago, New Hampshire and Minnesota. It was great fun getting to know them all. An interesting bunch with all sorts of backgrounds, hobbies, work and volunteer experience. Apparently the table assignments are made according to language groups, which was nice because we were able to talk to each other. This did not limit any of us however, in getting to know others from France, Germany and Norway, England and Canada, as we had ample opportunities during other mealtimes and on excursions.
Monument marking the location of the Arctic Circle
     The tour director on the ship kept us apprised of important landmarks, the appearance of the Northern lights, special activities on board, etc. and arranged excursions for those who were interested. Above is the marker at the Arctic Circle. There are no cabaret shows, swimming pools, spas or casinos on Hurtigruten ships. The entertainment is provided by the raw natural beauty, the ever changing light, and the quaint, colorful and historic towns and villages along the way. We had opportunities to get off the ship several times a day for between 30 minutes and 2 or 3 hours. Some excursions left the ship at one location and rejoined her at another. If a major excursion conflicted with mealtimes, then the schedule was altered to accommodate those on the excursion. 

     As I reflect our 12 days motoring thru the fiords of Norway at a constant, leisurely 15 knots I realize it will take several more posts to share the sights, sounds, experiences and profound affect that going to the End of the Earth and back has had on my mind and heart. 
Stay tuned for the next installation. 

Friday, April 3, 2015

Ahhhh! Spring!

Returning home from the island of eternal summer to the northern land of cool and damp, can be a shock to the senses. Trading flip-flops and sleeveless tops for jeans and sweatshirts could cause serious depression, were it not for what spring brings to the NW garden!

The last few days have been partly sunny and mild, affording the opportunity to confront head-on the healthy crop of weeds that seem to want to creep into every available space in the garden beds. The added bonus for such attention is the breathtaking surprise to find primroses, turning their colorful little flowery faces up to catch the sun and shouting "It's Spring!

A few years ago I started collecting various types and colors of these wonderful, early blooming little harbingers of hope, and although I am miserable at cataloguing and keeping track of the varieties, I do remember from whence some of my little collection came.

 Two years ago, a bestie friend went to the Northwest Perennial Association spring sale, and acquired these old fashioned English Cowslips! They are presently my favorite, as they bring back fond memories of wandering along the English hedgerows during our residence there in the '80's. Being an Arizona girl, primroses were only something I ever read about, or saw in gardening magazines, but having been born in Cleveland, and my grandmother an avid gardener, I suspect I have a latent memory of them there.

"Down in the meadow where the cowslips grow"*
This  red primrose was a gift from a friend in my garden club! What a gorgeous color! 



Another beautiful pink one on the darkest green leaves you have ever seen. Notice the pink stems, too!
And, While Mother Nature had out her paint box, she whipped out a few blue ones !

The spring garden is full of wonderful surprises, and each day, nature surprises us with another little something to dazzle our eyes and gladden our hearts. Happy Easter Everyone!
* Susan Blue, by Kate Greenaway
OH, Susan Blue,
How do you do?
Please may I go for a walk with you?
Where shall we go?
Oh, I know–
Down in the meadow where the cowslips grow!

Friday, March 20, 2015

A Whale of a Tale!

Humpback whales are among the largest mammals on earth, and to be on the water in a small boat within a short distance of them is a peak lifetime thrill.

Ocean Sports offer quality experience whale watches and snorkle trips on the Big Island of Hawaii, and we have been privileged to take two trips with them this month. There is a large whale sanctuary off the coast which stretches from the central Kona Coast to the North Kohala on the west side of the island. Kawaihae sits right in the middle, and we were in touch with the magnificent creatures within minutes of leaving the harbor. The experienced captain, crew and naturalists on board not only got us as close to the whales as is safe for them but also ran an interpretive commentary about the whales we were seeing. 

Our large catamaran, Alala proved a comfortable viewing platform, allowing everyone adequate space to move around and catch views of spouts, bubbles and flukes. With only about 60 passengers on board, we had inside seating, outside seating and standing room against the rails all around the boat. 

Catching good shots  of moving targets is challenging under the best of conditions, but couple that with a moving boat, a slow camera and slower yet reflexes on the part of the photographer, and it is a miracle I was able to catch any pictures at all! 
Humpback whales migrate from the cold arctic waters around Alaska and beyond where they feed all summer, to the warm shallow waters of the tropics where they spend their winters having babies and making whoopie before making the long trek back in the late spring. Females are promiscuous, always choosing the strongest, most virile male as their mate for the next offspring. 

Sometimes already pregnant again, they lead their newborn calves back to the Arctic, nursing them along the way, and teaching them feeding techniques once they arrive in the cold, nutrient rich waters of the higher latitudes. Females lose about 40 percent of their body weight during the migratory, birthing and mating process, making the return to the Arctic necessary for their survival. Bulking up over the summer, and gaining as much as 20,000 pounds, they bring their nearly yearling calves back to the tropics to teach them the route, kiss them good bye and get back to the business of mating or giving birth again. Most females only mate every 2-3 years, but scientists have occasionally observed super-moms that have mated 3 years in a row! Can you imagine giving birth to a 1500 pound baby??? Calves suckle about 50 gallons of milk each day! 

Humpbacks are identified by their distinct and unique markings on the underside of the fluke. We were occasionally able to see these markings:

There are websites which allow the identification of specific whales, if one is intersded in dedicating one time to such endeavors. One such website is: http://www.alaskahumpbacks.org/Catalog/25_50/25-50.htm. I looked for about 12 minutes but couldn't find this one. 
 When the whale activity settled down and it was nearly time to return to shore, a crew member dropped a hydrophone into the water. Silence replaced the jabber of whale watchers, as we listened in wonder to the song of creatures we could not see. My phone voice memo won't load onto blogger, so if you want to hear a real time whale song, click here: http://livewhales.com. 

Whale watching is just one of the many ways to enjoy this beautiful island, and if you do decide to give it a try while you are visiting here, consider Ocean Adventures. We had two wonderful experiences with them.