I hate going to the dentist. The hygienist is nice as can be, but the whole endeavor is an anxiety factory cranking out anxiety with the volume turned up to eleven. I guess maybe I have dental issues. Those probably stem from one of my childhood dentists and his practice of not giving me any anesthesia when he drilled into my teeth. Have you ever had a tooth drilled without its having been numbed out before? It is not a pleasant experience, let me tell you. You will never outgrow that experience.
After the dentist, I went for a walk with Kelly and Judi, which was probably not the best idea, simply because I was still feeling the horrible anxiety aftershocks and I should have come home and crawled back into bed. However, it was good to take a walk in some vague, dissociative, what-doesn't-kill-me-makes-me-stronger sort of way.
After that, Kelly and I went here, to a pottery studio called Not Made in China (their website is largely under construction). Then we came home.
Dave and I went out after that for lunch at the place we call Roachlish. It's actually called Relish, but we based our little nickname on a visitor we had to our table on our first visit--which, frankly, has not stopped us from eating there several times. (I've worked in professional kitchens. I know the vermin drill.)
Their sandwiches are awesome. This is one of my favorites, a double decker reuben (with the 1000 Island on the side, because that stuff tastes like bile.)
We meant to go and work at the studio today, but there wasn't energy enough to do more than check out what came out of the firing I loaded yesterday.
MUUUUUUUUGGS! Thirteen of them. I hadn't noticed that. Yikes. Unlucky.
Those are my mugs sitting on one of my shelves. Most of them came out alright. (I especially like that queen bee of a mug up there on the top shelf. It's like she's looking down on her loyal mug subjects. Mugjects?) Two of them are crap. One had kiln shelf garbage stuck to it (my fault since I loaded the kiln). The other had shivering in the glaze. (This is when the glaze doesn't fit the clay body very well and essentially just flakes off the piece after it's fired.) However the 100 Mug Challenge "rule" (David's rule) is that the mug only has to hold water. And since those two do, I'm counting them.
I'm a wee bit tired of mugs, and I'm only about halfway through the glazing process. The other night one of the new students asked me what I'm going to do with a hundred mugs. (It's actually two hundred if you add them to the mugs Dave is making.) I have decided that I can go with either of two plans: One is to either never, ever have to wash a mug again. Just keep making mugs, using them once then tossing them out. (Can you imagine? Why potters ever wash dishes is beyond me. Making them is more fun than washing them, by far.) The other plan is to use them as gifts for the next five years. Everyone gets a mug for their birthday. And another mug for Christmas. And on Valentine's Day, what could be better than a mug? Mugs for everybody.
Seriously though, some have come home with us. Some will be sold (hopefully). Some will be gifts. Some will get inevitably broken. Some won't survive the process. One hundred mugs slip so easily through one's fingers.
Still, I'm a long way from finished. These are some of the other mugs in the pipeline, so to speak:
Those thirty or so mugs are in the green state, prior to their first (bisque) firing. They will go into a bisque kiln on Wednesday.
I will say this: Greenware is notoriously weak. It's really just dried mud at this point, so it's very, very easy to break. Dave had a good laugh at my expense the other day when I was bragging about how strong my handles are even when they're green. Just to show off, I picked up a mug (#61) and waved it around, and the mug just dropped off and shattered on the floor, leaving me holding the handle.
Clay can teach you humility, too, I guess.
Those fifteen mugs have gone through their first (bisque) firing. I pulled them out on Sunday to put wax on their feet. Now to glaze and push them through a final firing.
And tonight when we stopped by the studio, I go another twenty-plus out of yesterday's bisque kiln.
There will never be an end to mugs it seems.
The strange thing is, tired as I am of mugs, on Saturday, when I threw my 100th mug since beginning the 100 Mug Challenge, I actually began to feel dissatisfied about my mugs. I thought: I haven't made the perfect mug yet. Maybe I should keep going. But I feel as though I've ignored my handbuilding projects long enough. I may have to circle back to them soon.
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