905-753-2731 susan@potterystudio.ca

Iced car, sitting on a bed of ice …

Dog, voicing his opinion too.

Yep, not exactly vanilla, but there’s ice everywhere.  The little glass solarium looks like something from a movie set.  And, my hubby, if you can imagine, tells me I’m grounded for the day, maybe two.  Whoa, there cowboy!  Like, geez, couldn’t have figured that out by myself?  How did I ever manage without him, eh?  Even the dog is expressing his opinion … sitting on my coat!

 

Fireplace in studio …

So here I am, stuck by the fire (ha, ha).  Can’t even glaze my pots — because they are out in the kiln, in the kiln shed, which is surrounded by ice.  There goes today’s plan!  I was going to draw patterns on the new teapots, see if I could come up with something more in line with my artsy fartsy little brain.  It’s a bit of a job though.  Seems like the air pressure has me in a fuzz (so maybe it’s good I’m not driving after all).  

 

 

Got me to thinking about ice though, and my ‘snow on ice’ glaze.  The ice out here looks a very steely grey, and my snow and ice is a pretty blue.  

 

And got me thinking about other ice storms — in fact one a way, way, back –1958 maybe.  From what I remember (after all, I was just a teeny, tiny child!), the ice was about an inch thick in the Humber Valley in Toronto where I lived. Can you guess what happened to schools that day?  They were actually open.  We skated to school.  Teachers were there.  I can’t even imagine how they actually got there, but there were enough there to keep us for the day.  And you should see the hills going down into the valley.  They were and are enormous.  That would never happen today.  For one thing, many of the kids I went to school with were in families that had tons of children (maybe even six to ten!) and I suppose losing one or two because they couldn’t skate would have been thinning the herd (I say this in jest, in case any of you now want to explain the grief that follows the loss of a child).  Maybe if we’d been on buses school would have been cancelled, but you could walk/skate/bike five miles to school back then and they might still not provide a bus, at least in Toronto and surrounding area.  Where is this going?  Just the ramblings of another cranky soul who had to walk ten miles backwards in the pouring rain or sleet to get an education?  Maybe.  That’s what happen as we age.  We get stuck inside without our wheels and the brain wanders!

 

So where was I?  Oh, yes, back to the glaze.  Do you love it?  If not, I’m thinking of moving on.  Finding blue just a little too sweet (which may be why it’s actually bought, but when has that ever guided me?).  My gut is telling me to get back to the transfers, slips, underglazes, etc., that I used to do.  Maybe add in some celtic knots or something.  Something that ties in with my roots and abstract leanings.  And, because I can’t go out and get the work in the kiln, and the fire is so lovely in the studio, I’m going to make some celtic stamps and maybe slap some underglazes on paper to get ready to do some transfers.  Have to wait until my next batch of work to use them though … can’t use them on bisque ware.

 

Guess I’ve been iced.  Could be stuck in the penalty box, but for me that’s like sending a teenager to her room that’s filled with tv’s and electronic gadgets.  Heck, might make myself a nice espresso while I work and then take a nap …

 

Just one more thing to add — for those students who are waiting for a shout out in the blog.  I am so happy to have you all back.  Peals of laughter are being absorbed into the walls, and they make my studio a lovely place to work!

 

Hope you’re having a great day, and if you’ve been iced too that you have a warm fire with a great blanket,

 

Susan McD