Glaze Day Musings

…. while I wait between coats. 

I have mixed feelings about glaze day.

My other potter friends agree.

On one hand, it’s such a satisfying and affirming step, and an all-around hopeful landmark.  Hey, we’ve made it this far. You’ve been with this piece since inception and you’ve seen enough success that you’re able to glaze it. (It’s kind of like getting your kid to senior year in high school.) You’re almost there. The finish line looms. Keep going. So far so good. 

Yet. The glaze color lies. It lies so bad. What you paint on or dip into is not really the color you’ll end up with. You’d think painting would be fun - and yes that’s true. But, visually, it’s disconcerting.

You never really 100% know how it will crawl and fire and burn. 

I still catch myself holding my breath on glaze day. Sometimes I have to leave the house. 

Add in humidity, water, firing twice, and the reality that the clay and the fire and the glaze are all
going to do what they’re going to do. Irregardless.

Risky business.

I’m stoked as hell that I got this mug to Glaze Day. Truly. It’s the last day of the almost there step and I’m ready to start building again. Honestly, building gets me out of bed in the morning. It’s the part of this whole thing that I love.

Dreaming.

Conjuring.

Experimenting.

Communicating

Smoothing.

Imprinting.

Rolling.

Raising.

But food-safe stoneware & all the button colors require glaze.

Happily, however, something good has happened and that’s the whole point of this whole rambling. I’ve noticed that I’ve been working on changing my perspective and it actually worked. I don’t dread glazing as much as I used to. Experience has gifted me confidence. And yes, patience too.

I walked out to the studio this morning to face the glaze. Not weary about glaze day and not frustrated with the lying glaze, but accepting this next-to-the-last step that requires faith and belief and the biggie: a release of control.

Instead of: Aw man, I hope this works. 
It’s now: Well let’s give the Big Wheel a turn and see what happens. 

Almost there, I whispered.

Tomorrow we fire. 

peace,
Deirdre