A Day At Devon...And Then Some

For my Bachelorette Party in 2000, I was whisked away by three long–time buddies for a weekend of wine and wackery in Napa, California. It was such a blast that it became a tradition that we four regroup for a Lost Weekend once a year, each at a different location. And this year we decided to take in the prestigious Devon Horse Show in Devon, PA since the four of us are lifelong horse–crazy girls. Started in 1896, Devon is the largest and oldest multi–breed horse show in America, and it's been on my Bucket List for ages. And seriously, what better way to check it off than with my bodacious, pugnacious pony posse?

We had Grandstand tickets for Friday, allowing us to enjoy everything from Roadster Ponies to Five–Gaited Saddlebreds to Coaching classes to Stadium Jumping. For a horse–lover, it was truly a smorgasbord! And for an artist like me, it was gleaming, snorting parade of redunkulous awesome! 

The Saddlebred is a distinctive American breed, bred to be stately, easy–gaited, intelligent and tractable. They're naturally high–headed and high–stepping, and many have an additional fourth and fifth gait, the Slow Gait and the Rack, respectively, the latter which is very fast and thrilling!

Another lovely Saddlebred—this breed is known for its presence and charisma, as you can see here.

It was so cool to see Kathleen at work! She's a very talented sculptor who imbues her pieces with lots of energy and life.

Stadium Jumping is a popular sport, albeit very dangerous! Those jumps are much bigger in life than they look in the photo, easily almost as tall as I am and about three feet apart. And that's a 17hh stallion! Isn't he handsome?

Devon is one of the biggest and most prestigious competitions for driving in the world, and we were lucky to have a whopping eleven brilliant coaches competing from around the world! In this class, the driver must maneuver his team and coach through the course laid out by a series of paired cones without knocking the oranges off the top—and there are lots of tight turns and expert strategy involved. If they do, they're penalized points which counts against them in the placings. Essentially, this is the Stadium Jumping equivalent of driving. Getting four horses to the same level of schooling and working together as a team, while keeping them sound, healthy and happy, is essentially an art form in itself.

Guy McLean was also there from Australia, demonstrating his horsemanship skills. One of his horses, Nugget, is a Breyer horse, too! And yes—that's a horse under there!

To keep us fed, Kay prepared a fantastic homemade brunch and picnic lunch—complete with champagne! A cheese and paté starter then delicious dill and cream shrimp, a delish tomato and feta salad, and one of my favorite pasta dishes, The 5Ps: pasta, pesto, parmesan, peas and pine nuts! I porked out! We definitely dined in style between classes, sipping our bubbly and leisurely taking in the equine beauty around us, discussing which entries we liked most. It was seriously marvy. 

It was one of those totally perfect days—so thank you Kay, Steph, and Laurie! And I took a ton of reference photos for sculpture and my how–to books, since the variety of breeds and riding disciplines was so impressive.

All the hoofed lovelies were positively exquisite and meticulously turned–out—I don't think I've ever seen so many impressive, imported Sporthorses in my life! Such handsome creatures! The Budweiser Clydesdales were there, too, in all their massive, charming goodness. They're about 72" (183cm) at the shoulder and weigh between 1,800-2,300 lbs (816-1,043kg)! Yes, they are big! It was so cool to see that giant hitch maneuver in the ring, with the thundering thump–thump–thump of their dinner plate–sized hooves. I also got to see Kladrubers for the first time—white grey, regal beauties, living masterpieces. And Friesians! Those high–stepping, black beauties who prance right out of a dream! They were all uunbelievably splendid, and incredibly inspirational for clay. Heaven on the hoof.

There were also the Saddlebreds. Now I've never seen them in person, let alone in action, and, boy—was I floored. I'm still blown away to tell the truth. I've had a Saddlebred stallion sculpture in the works for some time now, but he's really big, much larger than 1:9 scale. Depicting the older, original archetype in barefeet and natural tail, I was forced to put him on the backburner when the economy took a downturn due to higher costs induced by his size. But now he's been reinvigorated with new energy thanks to Devon! Being able to study and admire the real thing in person has really helped me with this piece, and I gotta say—more Saddlebreds will definitely be coming out of the studio! WOW. 

It was a long, wonderful day and we got back at midnight, thoroughly satiated on equine goodness, and me very much inspired for the studio. We all slept well that night. Now since we had a couple of extra days, we decided to do another of our favorite activities—be ridiculous while we watch some favorite movies, and just laugh until our sides split. Mystery Science Theater and Monty Python were definitely on the roster, and we were introduced to Wreck it Ralph, which instantly got absorbed into our lexicon.

Now I hate zombies because I think they make stupid monsters as far as monsters go, but I fell in love with the "Wreck It" zombie during the Bad–Anon Meeting. "GOOD! BAD! YOU MUST LOVE YOU!" became my tagline for the weekend. And the girls would ask, "Do you have your hatchets?" to which I'd answer, "Aaaaaaaaaghhhhh!", arm–flinging and all. And for the record, Steph bears an uncanny resemblance to Calhoun—which is awesome.

Sidenote: This being a five–day trip, Fate would have Laurie forget to pack extra pants! All she had were the pants she wore on the plane and a Fred Flintstone–esque dress. That's it. I kid you not. Don't ask why, it's just easier to accept it. Oddly enough, however, as I was packing for the trip, the Universe insisted that I pack twice as many pants than I would ever need for five days. I can't explain it—it just was a strange compulsion, much like carving Devil's Tower out of mashed potatoes. And we were all grateful.

But it didn't end there! OK—backstory time…for years, Laurie and Kay have been exchanging vintage cookbooks and recipes. Not the good ones, mind you. Oh no no no no. NO. I'm talking about the ones where various forms of unspeakable foodstuffs are entombed in gelatin and molded into jiggling nightmares. You know, that scary stuff from the 50s and 60s. That colorful, creepshow cuisine that killed off any sense of culinary decency our parents and grandparents otherwise might have had. Yeah—those cookbooks. 

And so Kay diabolically hosted a Regrettable Food Weekend, squarely aiming things at us that should never be combined, let alone draped in Jell–O. It was truly a dry–heaving, regrettable roundtable of gastric gourmangeddon. An abomination to all things from gourmet to greasy spoon to even gas station burritos.

I now totally understand why liquor and cigarettes dominated the social scene those days: you needed the really strong stuff just to get this gelatinous sludge down your gullet!

Kay, of course, documented the whole escapade with photos and incisive descriptions on her Facebook page for everyone's sadistic enjoyment. People followed along and posted comments as they watched us suffer and sputter our way through the malformed menu—and I gotta say that as questionable the experience was, we had a riotous good time! Let it not be said we won't suffer for a laugh! So if you're interested in hosting the same form of tantalizing torture on your loved ones, you can find some of these rancid recipes by Googling "regrettable food," or through this or this. Bon Appétit. And consider yourself forewarned.

But it wasn't all bad! As is traditional for our weekend, we indulge in every culinary hedonism possible, being the devout foodies we are. To that end, Kay's husband, Gary, graciously treated us to one of the very best meals I've ever mowed down at Bar Ferdinand, a Spanish tapas bar. Everything was brilliant, though my personal favorites were the cheese and apple foam "pops," the off–the–charts paella, and a lobster and roe cream dip, which I pretty much scarfed down all by myself. No remorse. We liked the place so much, in fact, that we returned a couple days later, and gorged on the best mussels I've ever had in my entire life—holy smokes, they were good! And there were these braised short ribs with roasted cauliflower that I know would have sent Ham over the moon in sheer euphoria. If ever there was His Dish, that was it. 

It was a good sign, I must admit, that the bar was based on Ferdinand the Bull, which still remains one of my favorite kids books. The story, the illustrations, and the idea of this big, hulking mass who seems scary on the outside, but is really a misunderstood sweet, gentle soul on the inside has captivated me since childhood. Heck, it's no surprise I married Ham—he is Ferdinand the Bull!

But it didn't end there! We were lucky enough to have Gary make us his famous crab cakes. Now I've heard of these spoken in reverent, hushed tones for years. They are the stuff of legend, of tall tales that grow taller every year. Now unlike Jim Gaffigan (who was also infused into our weekend hilarity), I'm a seafood junkie—and I'm freakishly obsessive about shellfish, in particular. So I've consumed just about every kind of crab cake across the country, and long maintained that the overall quality of a chef's seafood prowess can be determined simply by their clam chowder or crab cake. These dishes are sneakingly difficult to make well, and so the better they are, the more likely delicious the rest of the seafood menu.

And so it was that after biting into my first GaryCrabbyCake, I instantly understood its legendary status. Do you remember that moment when Anton Ego first bites into Remy's ratatouille? Yeah—that was me. It was the single best crab cake I'd ever had, let alone one of the best things I've ever chowed down! Served with melted lemon butter, it was pure ambrosia. So thank you twice over, Gary! You rock!

On our last day, the Regrettable Food Roulette continued with Banana Day, and it was just as heinous as you'd expect. And given how I hate bananas, the nasty was ramped up to Barfcon 1. But for the afternoon, Kay and Steph had a surprise activity planned! All Laurie and I knew was to pack clothes that could be stained, which was an intriguing prospect!

Again, Kay packed a picnic with chips and fresh, homemade mango salsa, plus two bottles of lovely cabernet: Turnbull and Clos du Val. After a cab ride into Center City, we discover we'll be playing at Painting With A Twist, a franchise operation that combines painting and partying! They supply all the materials and instruction, and you get to bring your fun, food, and vino. There were twenty of us in the class, and everyone was fun and the instructors were fabulous! 

Our target painting was of a Bird of Paradise flower with a colorful background, as the instructor led us through the process one step at a time. Think of it as a cooking class, but with pigments, brushes, and a canvas. But…well…I didn't want to paint that…and happily I didn't have to. Because what's also cool about this class is that they let you paint whatever you want—just as long as you have fun! So I decided on another subject, one of which I'm especially fond…

Now I haven't painted flatwork in nearly twenty years. We were using acrylic paint with two big, wonky brushes—"Big Daddy" and "Little Daddy"—six colors, and about an hour and forty–five minutes to work. I totally winged it. Oddly enough though, painting Godzilla not only came easily, but was a blast. I suspect that beautiful cabs, scrumptious mangoes, and maniac friends are an ideal combination! With the big reveal, the whole class and the instructors loved him…heck, one of the instructors begged to buy him. But nothing doing! Ham called dibs, and we're going to frame him and hang him in our front room. On the way home, a gal in the airport and two guys on my planes also wanted to buy him! But who doesn't love Godzilla!? What's not to love!? LOOK at 'im!

So here's the gang with their super cool paintings! We joked that Kay served as the "control group" since she followed the instructions exactly. And despite not being an artist, her painting was very well done—clean colors and lines with meticulous brushwork. That speaks well of the experience me thinks!

Laurie took a different route, creating a variation on the theme to great effect. It's moody, wistful, and a bit contemplative, and beautifully detailed. 

Steph took a completely different route, since she interpreted her background as more oceanic. If you look closely, you can see her peekaboo fish cleverly hidden in the pigment—it's a really cool effect! 

Throughout the weekend, we enjoyed all the wines and champagnes Kay had carefully selected based on our previous trips, and we ventured down memory lane with each bottle. Bottle after bottle. Oy. But each one was delectable, and attached to so many great memories! And we definitely added more this year. Incredible friends. Incredible food. Incredible libations. Incredible weather. Incredible experiences. Trollopfest 2014 was a smash hit, and though it'll be hard to top, I suspect we'll have a great time trying in 2015, our 15th anniversary! 

Thank you again, Kay, Steph and Laurie for another brilliant time! Totally "Turbo–tastic!" I miss you already so much, and can't wait for next year! Each of you is totally A Dynamite Gal!

"All right, ladies, the kitten whispers and tickle fights stop now!" ~ Sergeant Calhoun, Wreck–It Ralph

A Day At Devon...And Then Some

Mud Slingin'

Sunny sunflowers in Lynn's beautiful garden, against the blue Idaho sky.

One of my favorite times of the year doesn't involve a holiday or festival, but an annual gathering where lots of mud gets slung around. That is to say, a muddy buddy rendezvous where my fellow ceramic addicts visit for a week to share each others' techniques and innovations. We originally referred to this time as "Mayhem," since May usually was the target month and "mayhem" aptly described the ensuing chaos. But this year, our bout of silliness was delayed until September due to scheduling. In response, Karen coined an even better declaration for this week–long mud bath: Mudhenge. YES. How perfect is that?! Our group this year entailed The Usual Suspects: Joanie B., Lesli K., Lynn F. and myself, and with the addition of Karen G. 

The last two years, though, we experienced a dearth of mudfesting only because each of our circumstances made it too difficult to carve out a week. But now that things have settled down a bit, 2012 marks the welcome reboot of our raucous mud slingin' caucus! 

And what a time we had! 

For starters, we scheduled it to coincide with Art in the Park, the wonderful arts and crafts bazaar that occurs every September here in Boise. We each got some artsy goodies, studied the tent set–ups and types of presentation, and enjoyed the beautiful weather. 

This year AitP had some really cool new and returning artists such as Rocky Canyon Tileworks, Winfield Designs, Masak Pottery, Hudson River Inlay, Studio Rynkiewicz, Blueside Metal Art, and Arisa Niita. It was fantastic! 

Studio Rynkiewicz was especially fun since the artist was Polish and recognized "Minkiewicz" as Polish, too! We found a fellow "kiewicz!" So we joked over that as we admired his gorgeous glasswork. His handblown pumpkins especially captured my eye—the irresistible cute shape of a plump pumpkin paired with the glitter and glow of art glass was a winning combo for me! And apparently for others, too, since he seemed to have sold out of them by the next day.

So after that feast for the eyes, it was time to gorge on our own creativity! Each of us offered a demo or discussion, and in this round–table fashion we learned from each other and confabbed on ideas, directions, and issues. For instance, Lesli offered two nights of fascinating equine color and genetics presentations, with lots of discussion and Q&A. Joanie showed us a special rub–off glazing technique she developed, an approach especially useful for pieces with lots of sculpted fuzz (like Oliver and Brownie).

In kind, Lesli and Joanie taught Karen some underglazing techniques while Karen did a whole afternoon of china painting demonstrations at Lynn's studio, which was intriguing to say the least. The hand–painting methods she demoed were particularly enticing to me because they were similar to my own cold–painting methods. So I can't wait to try them—I think I'll take to china painting like a rattie to scrambled eggs! Banzai! In her generosity, Lynn made us some pieces we could use for china painting, and I'm itchin' to dive in!

As for myself I demoed pouring and tweaking porcelain, and specifically how I claybodied those Reflectives. Apparently I break every rule in the book, but I had no idea. As Joanie quipped: no one told me I couldn't do things that way, so I just went ahead and did them. I listen to the clay and go with my gut, and somehow it works. Makes me wonder just how much of the rules are hand–me–down dogma, or on the other hand how much of them actually apply to what I'm doing, since what I'm doing is a bit off the deep end anyway. I guess I'll find out!

That in mind then, I got a wild hair and poured a porcelain Limerick, Collier and Brownie. As if that wasn't enough, I intend to claybody them as well. Feelin' bonko and going with it. Let 'er RIP. The tricky part about casting porcelain is that it cannot be bent or fudged when removed from the mold due to the clay's memory. So pulling those castings was a real breath–holder, but they pulled just fine! We're all anxious to see how they fire, particularly if they have slumping issues like fine bone china. We can create solutions whether they do or not, but if we can get this porcelain to work for full body sculptures, a whole new clay is open to us and that means new possibilities—so keep those fingers crossed!

But beyond learning, inspiring, challenging, and tinkering, Mudhenge is also about having a great time. A really great time. Our industry tends to place artists into an antagonistic relationship with each other, something I find uncomfortable and a bit counterproductive to the community. But all of us are friends, first and foremost, and Mudhenge is our rebuttal of sorts. We all love horses, we all thrive on creativity, we all value innovation, we all relish learning new things, and we all worship that miraculous substance that feeds our pugnacious, pudgy kilns. So Mudhenge is a time for celebrating our true bonds of friendship, appreciating our shared enthusiasms, and reconnecting on deeper levels.

Breaking bread together is understandably a core activity then. Indeed, lovingly nestled within all this earthy goodness is food. Lots and lots of fantastic food. Boise is definitely a foodie town—folks here love to eat and eat well—and so we're blessed with a shameless plethora of delectable restaurants, eateries, confectionaries, and food trucks. 

This is convenient because creativity eats up a ton of calories, and then laughing and being endlessly silly eats up a ton more. So we're obliged to imbibe copious amounts of Basque, Thai, BBQ, croquetas, sweet potato hash browns, risotto, crepes, squishy french fries, curry, bacon…you name it. We partook of our favorite haunts Sa–Wah–Dee, Bar Gernika, Fork, Berryhill & Co., TableRock, Jerry's, Goldy's, Goodwood, and Cutter's BBQ, just to name a few. Mom also made an awesome banana bread which was consumed post–haste. Gotta feed those cells, in more ways than one! So at the end of the week, not only were our brains burgeoning at the seams from being fed…so were our bellies! Both my skull and my waistbands are feeling a bit tight lately. As it should be!

Mud slingin' also requires chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate. So off we went to check out a new chocolatier in Bodo: Saroli Chocolate. I got Pop a giant hunk of dark chocolate fudge, (which I'm told he devoured like a velociraptor), and I got Mom some scrumptious dark chocolate goodies (which I suspect didn't last the car ride home). I particularly liked their key lime gummi fruit slices—they didn't last long. So a bag of goodies came back to the studio with each of us, but which were pretty much emptied by the next day. This crisis then required an emergency trip to our perennial favorite, The Chocolate Bar, in order to restock our depleted supplies. My favorites there are the dehydrated and candied (real) orange slices (with rind!) dipped in chocolate, and the milk chocolate caramels with sea salt. I'm a milk chocolate girl while Hubby is a dark chocolate guy. So one way or 'nuther, any box of chocolates doesn't stand a chance!

After procuring a new stash of cocoa essentials, we headed to The Potter's Center, the requisite destination for any ceramicist in Boise. It's where I buy all my clay and equipment, and both Karen and Lesli wanted to buy the same slipcasting porcelain I'm using. I also bought some new clay to use for my Dancing HorsesTM to mix up the collection a bit, and the porcelain pugs I need for the 2012 Christmas ornament edition. So we descended on them like chattering locusts, and thus loaded with new supplies (our car's rear wheels were so squished down, it looked like we were doing a wheelie in a sedan!), we headed back to the studio to continue on with our muddy merriment.

Amidst all this, Karen worked on one of her Roundies in underglaze while both Joanie and Lesli glazed a couple of Olivers Lesli brought. Lesli gave me her finished Oliver (thank you, Lesli!) who I named "Mudhengie" while Joanie named hers "Chutney," in honor of the curry chicken sandwich she had earlier at Berryhill. I can't wait to get started on Elsie and Oliver castings, especially for claybodying! Same goes for Dante! Pair that with the china painting techniques Karen shared, and me thinks I'll be happier than a bug in a rug! It would be really fun to blend underglazing and overglazing, too, to see what neat effects can be achieved.

In particular, hooves are a real trouble spot for me. Attaining that sort of embedded "bruised" appearance of stripes coupled with the complex networks of staining, growth rings, periople and everything else makes hooves one of the most difficult aspects of the equine to capture convincingly, in any media. So I'm hoping overglazing will help me get closer to my goals.

I also have an old Spinnaker I glazed some years ago at a previous Mudhenge, but I goofed on the mane—there's a series of big bald spots on the high points where my finger accidentally rubbed off the underglaze before I could catch the goof before applying the final glaze layer. Ordinarily that would be a permanent flaw, but it's totally fixable with overglazing! I also want to see what additional details I can add to this hapless piece with that medium, so be expecting a blog post about him sometime soon.

As for myself, I requested that while they were here, Lesli and Joanie show me how to pull castings from their molds. Considering how complicated their molds are—in order to accommodate the complicated sculptures I send them (what goes around comes around!)—it was immensely helpful to be guided through the process of demolding a Vixen, Imp, and Dante, for instance. There's definitely a sequence to it in order to pull a viable casting.

My wonderful hubby was a gem the entire week, too. He doted on us, making sure we were all comfortable, hydrated, well–fed, cooled–off in the ceramic studio or warm inside the house. 

He lit scented candles, brought out afghans, set up Lesli's presentation on our TV, and made sure all the muddy buddies could get online through our network. He also took pictures, drove us all around, carried our bags, and generally became our go–to–guy for anything we'd need as well. So thank you, Ham, you're a peach! Marvelous Mom was also invaluable, especially when helping me prepare the house for the onslaught of awesomeness. Thank you Mom, you RULE! Pulling off a week like this is definitely a team effort!

But it's curious how things come full circle when we follow our passions. I knew my Great Grandma (Mom's side) was a "mudhen" who specialized in finely crafted china painting on porcelain figurines, plates, tea sets, bowls—the whole shebang. She did the whole nine yards, too—dipping lace in porcelain slip and everything. Over the years she created a massive collection readily on display on shelves, but almost all of it was destroyed in a big Southern California earthquake some years back (*sob*). But even more, Mom recently revealed that twice a month, Great Gran would host social gatherings at her house built around classes on ceramics and glazing. Deja vu! In a way, we just picked up where she and her friends left off, and I'd like to think she's with us during our muddin' around. I can just imagine her grinnin' from ear to ear! Looking back, I wish I could have gotten my hands on her kiln, or old enough at the time to have learned some techniques from her. But the best I can do now is to carry the torch and do her proud in my own way, with all this sure adding a cool new dimension to these "dirty" dealings.

At the end of the week, Lesli was the first to return home, then after her, Karen and Paul moseyed back to their abode. That left Joanie, who stayed with us for two nights, and we met up with Lynn and Barry at Goldy's for a final meal before she embarked on her long journey home the next morning in her mighty Mini Cooper, "Winnie the Mini." It was a tasty end to a tasty week, but it was very hard to say farewell nonetheless. I'm still pining for my muddy buddies to be honest, and feel a bit discombobulated, like I don't quite know what to do with myself. All that learning, laughing and creative inspiration is a potent drug, and I wish every artist could experience that high, even if just once. So I'll think of that Beatles song, With a Little Help from my Friends, and look forward to next year, aiming to innovate something worth sharing with the gang.

In the spirit of Mudhenge then: may your belly be full like a happy kiln, may your soul be stoked by the fires of inspiration, may your year be fruitful like a well–crafted mold, may love and joy envelop you like a gleaming glaze coating, and may your days be blessed with dear ones who enjoy getting down and "dirty" right along with you. Ceramics is about alchemy, and boy—do we make magic together! 

"Don't be dismayed at good–byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends." ~ Richard Bach

Mud Slingin'