Phew! First Bisque Firing Results

Now I know that to all you seasoned potters out there, my little kiln firing is a trivial event.
I've had twenty odd (some very odd) years of becoming unseasoned, forgetting how to do all this. And I'm a man, so, of course, I'm not going to ask for instructions, or look it up. I reason that it's all been in my head once, and that somehow it will surface when needed, and if not, I'll try bluffing. or guessing
And I've never in my life ever fired a little round toploader, so I'm going to program the electronic minder and hope for the best. (I was, by the way, the first potter I knew to have computerised kiln control, back in 1985, it proved to me that computers can screw up just as well as humans). I kinda yearn for the old days of trudging out to the kiln shed in the pouring rain, to adjust gas and air, peek inside the glowing box, and sit on log, waiting, at past mdnight, for that cone-tip to bend down and kiss the shelf.
More nostalgia would include splitting wood all night and feeding it into the ever hungry bourry-box, one memorable firing, we had a crate of beer, and whisky, and the northern lights. And rye-bread, and cheese, toasting at the firemouth, potatoes in a pit of ashes. Mmm.  the firing was good, but a knotty log sprang back and whacked my hand, which swelled up in a bone-broken sort of way, before dawn.
At the time, I felt no pain.

Anyway, no further suspense, ta-daa!!!!  No disasters!

Fortune sometimes smiles on fools.

The alchemy of flame (well, glowing hot bits of wire) has worked its magic. Because the load was tightly packed at the bottom, and fairly empty at the top, I set it to soak for ten minutes at top temp, probably not really needed, but it all looks pretty even.

I'm inordinately happy with this one, disproportionately so. It was born of some wild clay, just up the road from where I was living, the field had been sold for building land. When the backhoes were busy digging foundations, I went in, and stole a digger-bucket's worth of clay. after no more preparation than a bit of wedging and slamming, it threw beautifully, really strong and plastic.

At the time, I was planning to pitch these to various mediaeval history venues, I'd done quite a bit of work before for archeaology units, museums, living history, etc, but the making of these coincided with some rather negative life-changes for me, so they got shoved, along with a load of other remnants of an earlier life, on a shelf, out of sight, out of mind. I always, however, harboured the idea that one day, one day, I'd come back to clay, and fire them. The source of that clay's under a housing estate and a school now.

And nothing collapsed or cracked in the firing.

I was at a wedding reception, whilst the trusty kiln controller did all this. I was only a little bit nervous.
Phew!

Into the Archives. and First Bisque Firing!!!

Up early on saturday, across town to get into my basement store before the road closes, (they're resurfacing it after the frosts destroyed it), I'm rummaging, because I know there are some unfired pieces, wrapped in newspaper, and this weekend... ta-----daaaa! I intend the ceremonial first firing of my kiln.
I thought of doing a full scale dry-fire test, but hey, let's do russian roulette, put everything in and throw caution to the winds!

No greenware in this box, but a few promising platters.

I did find them eventually, I'd totally forgotten that I had a few teapots in there.

And in particular a BIG teapot. Oh I love teapots.

Next comes the kiln packing. Awkward, as I only have the one shelf.. Damn. Next tuesday I'll get some more, but that's my first opportunity. So, stack the big things as carefully as possible, and start inserting the smaller pieces. It's like a pit-firing but without the cushioning effect of fuel. May get a few breakages.
fingers crossed, phew. Update tomorrow....

Warning, by Jenny Joseph

This is in response to the excellent poem, “What Do Women Want?”, by Kim Addonizio, posted by Red Dirt Girl, at Through the Garden Gate.

Warning

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Jenny Joseph

Jenny Joseph wrote this in 1962. I'm not sure if she's wearing purple yet.

An Award.

Oh alright then, I made it myself. And awarded it to me, even though I've posted very little about pottery recently. That will be remedied though.
If you're a POTTER mudslinger, firer of earth, even a "ceramist" (hyuk hyuk!, silly word. In fact no, If you think you're a ceramist or ceramicist or whatever, and you make stuff with titles like "Votive Form No.14", then this is not for you. Shoo!), if you're an artisan who shapes argillaceous earths, this is for you. Just steal it, lift it, put it on your own page and invent some august body who might have awarded it to you.
Like the "Ersatz Soubriquet Institute for the Applied Arts (International)"....
And yes, I know it's not gender-neutral. Believe me, if I could have found an image of naked ladies firing a kiln, I would have used it.
In fact, if you have such an image feel free to send it to me.

The picture is from Cipriano Picolpasso's Second Book of the Potter's Art, written in about 1557, in Castel-Durante, Italy.

Car-Pushing..

Yes, I know this is all over the Internet, but I'm posting it here because it happens to have occurred close to home.
Consider it my 'local news' section.



The question that's been bugging me, since I first saw this, via... Um.. Arbroath? I think, is "How did that car end up there in the first place?"
Well, here's the answer. footage of the same thing happening in a tunnel in Melbourne, Australia.



In the local case, near Leeds, Rona Williams, a vet, was caught on the front of a bulk-tanker, and was interviewed later, by the Daily Mail
"As her Renault Clio was pushed along, she screamed: 'I'm going to die, I'm going to die.'
Mrs Williams had just joined the motorway ten minutes away from her surgery in Garforth when her car was apparently clipped by the lorry and ended up under its bumper. 'I just felt a knock and then I was travelling sideways – twisted 90 degrees clockwise,' she said.

She yanked on her handbrake, sounded her horn and flashed her hazard lights, but to no avail.
'I kept thinking, "Nobody knows I'm here. Nobody has seen me",' she said. 'I tried everything.
I was watching other cars, thinking, "Help me, just help me" – but they didn't seem to be doing very much.'

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1259610/My-nightmare-oblivious-60mph-tanker-driver-shunted-sideways-A1-minute.html#ixzz0iwjmjJ3

Her car was being pushed sideways at sixty miles per hour, eventually the truck driver realised something was wrong, but not quite what. He pulled in and stopped,
and amazingly, she emerged unhurt.

The truck driver is suspended from duty, whilst the police investigate. I suspect he'll have a  career change in front of him, (instead of a small blue car with a screaming driver).

Quote of the day.........

"Unite said only nine of 1,100 cabin crew reported at Heathrow on Sunday and that the vast majority of planes taking off were without crew."

 I know there's been an autopilot flying me in the past, but totally autonomous jets? The perpetrator of this journalistic blooper was none other than the BBC.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/8579355.stm

Captioning....

As you may have noticed, I recently discovered how to add text to pictures.
It's a simple, free tool embedded in the excellent "Picasa", free picture organising editing utility from google. Yes google....
I'll get bored with it eventually.
Also check out Poster Forge......

Here's a quick Bad Ass Blogger award... It took me two minutes, because I was too lazy to change all the templated text.

Roadside Panhandling