Proud Minkie

  "Whatcha doin'?"

The title of this particular blog entry, "Proud Minkie," has a dual meaning. The first, and perhaps not so obvious, is a reference to Tina Turner's rowdy rendition of "Proud Mary." Aside from the incomparable majesty that is Tina Turner, her famous quip, "I never ever seem to do nothing nice and easy" can pretty much describe my method here in the studio. Honestly, it could be my epitaph. 

Because if there's a quick and easy way of going about creating work, I appear to dodge it at every turn. Now, mind you, I try—I truly do. I set out to create something straightforward, with the most sincere and determined of intentions. Only I just can't do it.

You've seen it a million times before on this blog, haven't you? What starts out as something simple and uncomplicated ends up morphing into a piece that pushes the very limits of my skill and sanity. Like that famous "agony of defeat" skier on the World Wide of Sports, I go from "La–dee–da la–dee–da" to "OH DEAR GAWD HELP ME!" Pretty much in a {poof} of billowing snow, too.

But like the partner to that agony, "Proud Minkie" refers to the "thrill of victory" in that WWS clip, too. Because after I've gotten up, shaken off the snow, and rattled my head back to coherent thought, I realize that I pulled something off I never thought I could—either with my skills or the medium. I'm proud of what I've done only because I didn't think I could do it. Being dumbfound and delighted is a peculiar mix!

And so I give you this guy, who I refer to as "Mr. Continental" in reference to his continental braid. 

CBCM Reflective #7, a OOAK in midfire porcelain. Iberian stallion. Approx. 5x5".

He was supposed to be a simple claybody custom, with just a few tweaks to the head. It was the braids I wanted to focus on because I'd never sculpted anything like them before. But as sculptures tend to do, they take on a life of their own. They hijack the mind and take over the hands. And so one thing lead to another and I ended up with a piece that was far more involved than I ever intended. 

Here's the original Reflective, pulled right from the mold, still with flashing.

Here's the new CBCM version, still in progress (you can see me working on those braids). Straightforward and simple my curls!

Every bit of him was resculpted, including the set of his dock, ears and eye. Even his head was cut in half and reset to create that classic Iberian "ram head." 

Here he is, finished in greenware, drying and waiting to fire. Those braids took forever to sculpt not because of the technicality of sculpting them, but because I often "lost my way" in their pattern and got confused! That perspective can be so challenging to sculpt.

This guy represents some major leaps in my skills with this technique and medium, from the head chopping to how to a portion of those braids are free–spanning, with no support between them and the neck. I honestly didn't think I could do that—that either I didn't have the kahunas, or that the medium wouldn't allow me.

Boy, was I happy to find I was wrong on both counts! This slipcasting porcelain is sturdy stuff even as greenware, and generous enough to encourage the reckless pushing of envelopes. I didn't even need to support those braids during the fire, but pins n' needles were involved for twelve hours.

Muzzle detail. I love horse muzzles—they're an endless source of expression and quirkiness. One of my favorite aspects is how their lower lip can hang, and here we see that effect ever so slightly. It says that he's relaxed, but also focused on you, in a friendly, curious way. Horses express with every inch of their body.

This piece also provided the missing piece to an ongoing puzzle—how to stop the bubbling during the mature fire. I've been having a bear of a time with this clay bubbling in places during the mature fire, especially in thin areas, or at contact points with the shelf or porcelain prop. I thought maybe it was because I was firing too hot, so I made adjustments with some test pieces. No. I thought maybe the clay wasn't dry enough, so I ran some tests. Still no. I wondered if I needed to do a "preheat," or "hold." But, again, no.

I knew I had to fire it long and hot enough for vitrification, but I wondered if perhaps they were firing too long, that simply being too hot for too long was causing the bubbling. So I reduced the fire from the "slow" to the "medium" speed setting. No, that didn't work either. I was loath to fire shorter than that because you want to take porcelain just to the brink—that's what causes vitrification and gives it that lovely sheen—but no more so that you literally cause it to boil.

But this guy introduced a whole new problem—those free–spanning braids. I knew if I went about business as usual, those things would simply melt and slump into a flagrant display of disaster. I'd considered supporting that portion with porcelain prop, but decided against it because of the heat sink bubbling issues I'd been encountering with the stuff. I even mulled over the idea of creating tiny stilts which could be broken away—for about two seconds, then I came back to my senses. My only choice was to use the "fast" speed setting and hope for the best.

Here are those braids up close. You can see that free–span, where some of them are actually detached from the neck. It was surprising just how tough this clay is in greenware, holding up just fine to my tinkering to create that air pocket. That isn't to say I didn't hold my breath while I was carving away, though!

Well, the solution made itself apparent with those braids—it's the "fast" setting that proves to be the Goldilocks zone. He came out perfect. So now I've discovered more possibilities as well as the optimum condition for those possibilities, and all thanks to this swarthy fellow. I also discovered to trust the clay. All this time my assumptions were wrong, such as about the bubbling, and I simply needed to dispense with the preconceptions and just listen to the clay. Point taken!

Oh, 2012 is going to be so much fun!

"There is an art to wandering. If I have a destination, a plan—an objective—I've lost the ability to find serendipity. I am on a quest, not a ramble. I search for the Holy Grail of particularity and miss the chalice freely offered, filled and overflowing." ~ Cathy Johnson 

[Speaking of chalices freely offered and overflowing, I have to admit that I giggle when I think, "Mr. Continental," because I'm reminded of Christopher Walken's titular character. {snort!}  Champagna?]

Update: If you like, saunter on over to his auction.

Proud Minkie

Back To Work

One of the new ways my ceramic tiles are making their ways to new homes...in mosaics!

After my doctor–prescribed three week "pasture rest," I got back to work in earnest, getting knuckle deep in mud once again. I was particularly eager to finalize the various new applications for my tiles and get them up on Etsy pronto. At the top of that list were mosaics, an art form I'd long admired and which my handmade tiles were perfectly suited. Just like with beads, mosaics married mud and glass together with splendiferous results!

So the opening photo (above) is one of three large 9.5" x 9.5" mosaic pieces I put together, and here are the other two...

 

All three sold in the blink of an eye, something I really didn't expect. I thought they'd sit for months! It was so cool to put these pieces together, choosing just the right components and oozing the grout into the spaces. Forget spatulas or cloths—for me fingers are the best grouting tools! squish squish squish

I must admit that trepidation creeps in when I put new ideas up for sale only because I'm not so sure folks will think they're cool, too. Because I have to also admit that my various creative excursions can be quite random such as, for example, the new Shadow Horses...

On top is a pressing of my Welsh Cob (Section D) sculpture, Dafydd. The middle is from my RESS bas–relief piece. On the bottom are two separate pieces pressed onto one slab, those being Imp and Vixen respectively.

Also offered are sets of "undressed" pieces for the buyer to festoon as they wish. I encourage folks to dress 'em up themselves and resell those finished pieces. It's even been suggested they'd make super pendants for necklaces. So true! It's fun when we get to "play together," and when you do, please send along pix so I can feature your pieces on the blog! And some of these showcased Shadow Horses are still available.

These "cameo" pieces were created by pressing my selected sculptures into a slab of clay using a "squish n' roll" technique. How you squish n' roll influences the profile and manifestation of the details, making each one unique. Then the pieces are bisque fired and then glazed, with the glaze being strategically wiped off the high points to make the details "pop." And into the mature fire they go. It's a meticulous, time–intensive process, but the results are really cool. I especially like how the glaze accents the reversal of the sculpture to produce a unique kind of bas–relief.

But the curious thing about this project was that certain sculptures really lent themselves to this approach while others totally faceplanted, and for reasons I can't really explain. Totally counter–intuitive reasons, really. But it was sure fun finding out who was squishable and who wasn't! As expected though, only the transparent, glassy glazes worked for this project since the more opaque glazes totally obliterated the detail.

Now I'd really like to try some oxides with this idea along with making molds from some of these "negatives" to give me "positives." There are lots of uses for the positives, especially for a certain new series I'm currently designing. As a hint, I have a deep fascination for ruins that feature horses in bas–relief (like the Elgin Marbles) and I want to pursue that idea in earnest now that I'm getting a handle on tile pressing and free sculpting stoneware and porcelain. Lots of ideas brewing for that. In fact, if they don't explode in Big Al, the first offerings along those lines, featuring the Shadow Horse effect, may be available soon in the store.

Anyway, I offered quite a few Shadow Horses in this current Etsy cornucopia and waited in bated breath because they're so, well...weird. Boy, was I happy to find that many of you appreciate weirdness, too! But I'm not sure these critters will become a regular item in the store because they simply consume too much time to make. They're really better suited for periodic romps when the mood strikes.

As for the name, I decided to call them Shadow Horses rather than "cameos" only because I liked the idea of them being the "shadows" of the originals. Like anti–matter. Like ghosts. Considering it further, it would be fun to try this technique with the entire body of one of my sculptures, which I somewhat attempted with this piece. And I gotta say—I can't wait to see how Dante squishes!

Another random addition to this first 2012 offering were these fun magnet grab bags, made from impressions of my various works in mid–fire porcelain. Most of them were made for use as glaze test chips, but I got the idea for magnet sets mid–stride and so invested more time to make them presentable after they served their purpose.

 

Some are still available!

While lots of fun to make though, they ended up eating more time than expected only because the rub–off glazing technique takes so much work (and I'm so darned picky). It eats up lots of glaze, too, and on top of that, between the touchy clay and the even touchier glazes, I lost about 50% of what I actually made. So I'm not sure if this idea will be revisited anytime soon. Test chips perhaps are best left as throwaways. Though there is the idea for mosaics. Hmmmm....

Onward! Another debut was a new shape: a circle! Adding spice to the mix, unique flourishes were pressed into the clay by hand, along the border between the edge of the square stamp and the edge of the circle. That was a blast! It was such a hoot to grab everyday objects to see what kinds of effects they'd produce.

 

Here's a new circle porcelain piece still available in "the festoonery."

New, too, were the porcelain coaster sets I offered. This one got snapped up quickly.

This coaster set is still available. The results are hard–earned, lemme tell ya. The loss rate during production is alarming—between the mid–fire porcelain and the eventual glaze effects, I lost one for every one I made. But I think I know why, so I'm hoping the loss rate on my next batch won't be so outrageous.

The almighty circle also made its way into mosaics such as this piece here, which is still available. It showcases a rather rare stamp design, the "draft horse" version of one of my Dancing Horse stamps. I liked how the black frame set off the tile so well, so I intentionally chose dark mosaic bits to let the tile shine.

Overall, I really ended up liking the circle shape a lot. It has good "palm feel" and reminds me of a medallion or medal. Of course with that came a blinding influx of new ideas, but as per my new motto, "manageable bites," I instead made notes for next year.

Also new were various framing schemes for these new pieces, such as these... 

 

The top two pieces are sold, but the handsome bottom piece is still available.

What may not be readily apparent in these framed pieces is that these are 3" stamps adapted into 4" tiles. For far too long (than I care to admit), I anguished over how to achieve this result quickly and easily since nearly all tile accoutrements are made for 4" tiles. But it was imperative to maintain the smaller 3" measurement to keep the Dancing Horses (and pieces like them) affordable as single pieces. 

All that extra space along the edges tormented me for what seemed like ages, and I spent quite a bit of mental energy cogitating elaborate workarounds. Somehow I had to avoid duplicating all those stamps in the larger 4" size because not only would that have been prohibitively expensive, but would also eat into the precious studio space that's becoming a rapidly diminishing resource around here. 

So in typical Minkie Modus Operandi fashion (of "just do it and figure it out later"), I blindly dove in when I finally got my 4" tile cutter. It was the staring at flats full of 4" squares imprinted with my 3" stamps that did the mental trick, and the solutions instantly popped into my head. As natural as breathing. So natural, in fact, that I'm still sorely irritated at myself for over–thinking the problem!

What's more, the natural solutions are infinitely more flexible and interesting than any of my conceived workarounds! Blarg. Dur–hay Sarah! Can you be any more stupid? No wait! Don't answer that! Anyway, it's good to know that all tile accessories are now within grasp, in an easy, affordable and adaptable way.

Anyway, back to the Etsy store...also offered were new designs, such as this piece...

The new Solar Stallion in stoneware in "Rust," offered as a small colorway edition of twelve.

The glaze for these twelve pieces is actually an iron oxide applied and then rubbed off—a lot of rubbing off. So while I love the rustic touchy–feely finish, the process is the kicker. See, the glazing method is tedious enough, but mix that with a rather irksome glaze and, well...let's just say this finish won't be put into production. The problem is that the oxide tends to smear and re–stain rather than just go the heck away, meaning that these twelve pieces took a lot of work!

The complement to this piece, the Moon Mare, has been delayed since her design needed retooling and thus a new stamp made. But stay tuned! She'll be available later this year. [It should be noted that these pieces were originally designed for my Runehorse line, but took on a life of their own and inspired an entirely new series. So the "Rune Horse" stamp on the back of these current Solar Stallions will be a bit of a novelty very soon.]

Another unique item in this sale is a festooned Dancing Horse in porcelain, with a brand new hole figuration of one hole on the top and two on the bottom...

This particular piece is a reverse impression of the actual stamp, taken from the matrix board provided by the stamp manufacturer. If you notice, this is the old "head down" version of the current "head up" version now in production. This piece turned out so gorgeous, I'm sorely tempted to keep it! It's still available...for now.

But not to be outdone, lots of regular items pepper the store shelves, from the Dancing Horse singles to all sorts of festooned pieces. Also back are the popular Prancing Pony magnet sets, such as this one...

The four–piece Prancing Pony magnet set, "Summer Camp," which is still available. 

To shake it up, I included some porcelain Prancing Ponies to experiment with the medium in this manner. After all was said and done, however, I decided that porcelain is better suited to limited offerings rather than regular production. Stoneware it is then, and the new fancy stoneware clay I recently got is beckoning!

So this weekend I'll be getting the sold items packed up to ship off to their new homes as well as finishing up a couple of side projects. I'll also get back to those promised porcelain bas–reliefs (scheduled for sale in about two weeks) and continue with the CBCM Reflectives.

Exploring the mosaic theme further, I'm considering incorporating some of those bas–reliefs and perhaps a CBCM "Reffy" or two into mosaics as well. Then I'll redirect my attention to getting Dante underway and completing new sculptures for 2012, including some clay originals. Very excited! I can't wait!

So as needed as that pasture rest was, I'll tell ya what—it's great to be back up and running again. Back to the good ol' blessed routine. The creative habit. Now the wiser, this addiction is a good thing made even better with a more reasonable pace and less complications. Purpose. Simplicity. Clarity. Serenity. It feels fantastic. Hello, world! I'm back!

"Be regular and orderly in your life, that you may be violent and original in your work." ~ Clive Barker

Back To Work

I Am My Own Doomsday Device

It could be said that 2012 started off with a bang for me. Or rather the sound of body parts busting a cog at Christmas. The short version is this: I overworked myself during Christmas production and the bod and brain went on strike in protest. But I also have to say that 2011 was a very difficult year on a personal level. I guess everything just came to a head. That said, however, suffering near complete physical and psychological exhaustion is an interesting experience, and it's one I never wish to repeat.

Being of the same mind, my doctor put me on prescribed "pasture rest" though I'm slowly making my way back in the studio with welcome help from Mom and Ham. All in all, it's taken nearly two weeks of total rest—of doing absolutely nothing—to recover. Wow. Let it not be said I don't work hard or don't suffer for my art! And in the same breath, let it said I'm a total smeghead.

Cuz hey, I admit it: I did it to myself. It's a curse and a blessing to love what you do so much, you literally cannot stop doing it. Add in bad nutrition (apparently eggnog and Christmas cookies aren't found on the food pyramid), hosed up sleep patterns, barely any sleep on top of that and then constant, grinding stress, and well...after two months it catches up to you. Especially when you're 43!

Now my cheeky life's philosophy has been, "let my life serve as a warning to others" (and I surely need this poster in my studio), yet never before has that come to bear so profoundly than during this past Christmas. It was our worst on record. 

On the upside, though, the whole silly escapade inspired resolutions designed to ensure it never happens again (one hopes). So in that spirit, let me share new wisdom gleaned from my own private chartered whitewater rafting trip into my own personal Apocalypse Now. "The horror. The horror." Grab a paddle. 

First: Dreams Need Schemes My mind is in creative overdrive pretty much all the time. That's just the way it works. Ideas instantly spawn new ones and set me chasing after them in a Lamborghini, wheels a–squealin'. And that's a problem. 

What I learned then is that immediately springing on new project ideas full bore can actually be counter–productive so, instead, the first impulse should be to jot them down for future reference. Stay on target. That is to say there's an important difference between perceived creativity and actual creativity, and the distinction between the two is critical for a working artist.

Anyone can have lots of ideas, but the real trick is managing them. Actual productivity requires a plan. Flipping it over then, choosing not to act on new ideas right at this very moment doesn't mean they won't ever materialize. Quite the opposite really, as learning how to delay, prioritize and schedule them actually improves their chance of materializing, and often in smarter ways, and better still, without me dying in the process. A studio can be a mad place, but there should be method, too!

This may be old news for far wiser folks, but for me it's a bit of a revelation. See, in the past, my creative options were limited: realistic equine sculptures destined for resin casting. That kind of work created its own pace because of the logistical nature of the work. However, introducing ceramics into the studio changed everything, literally overnight, and in two fundamental ways.

First, the previously limited, narrow options were instantly transformed into infinite, myriad possibilities. Before I realized what had happened then, the pace of my creativity exponentially increased and took my body with it because I forgot to pace myself in the process. It never occurred to me that a new media would usher in new ideas about effort and progression. At the time it was just a new media, not a new way of working.

Second, the process of creating ceramics is markedly different than that of oil or epoxy clay sculptures. Ceramics are created in a sequence that requires a fair bit of preplanned scheduling that also includes long lag times (such as those for drying and cooling)...and therein lie two traps. For one, the timing of those deadlines is really important. Miss or miscalculate one, and the finish date for the entire project can go wildly astray. Now if other projects are timed too closely, what you then end up with is a bottleneck of work requiring very very long, hard hours of ceaseless work to meet the deadline. 

Secondly, there exist mad flurries of intense activity nestled within long periods of down time in ceramic production. It's in the down times where peril lies because it's so incredibly seductive to cram more projects into these "empty" time spans. And similar to the first situation, if all this work has similar deadlines, you can imagine the compounded workload at the tail end of the process. Imagine having two months to plan your giant wedding, a funeral, a surprise birthday and preparing to give birth, with all of them occurring on the same day. Yeah.

So this year, I'm instituting a production schedule for each project, with strict, suitably staggered deadlines. And I will not over schedule! There's always next year, despite what the 2012 doomsayers say.

Second: The Theory of Seasonality My giftware lines are sensitive to seasonal buying patterns. As you can imagine, the holiday season is the busiest time, but things also pick up in summer. When you play your cards right, collectors come to expect specialty items at certain seasonal times as well, and so the whole mechanism takes on a life of its own. This is really exciting and super inspiring, but...

It's really quite new to me. 2011 was only the second year of active selling through my Etsy store. In the past, selling my realistic equine sculpture has been more or less a rather steady endeavor throughout the year, with it actually dropping off around the holiday season.

But this new cycle of intense production and selling in very short bursts—during an already busy holiday time—is one I've only started to understand properly. Indeed, I only discovered how not to do so just last month! Considering how the giftware lines are expanding so quickly, and with jewelry quick on its heels, careful production management is going to be pivotal for keeping my sanity.

Altogether then, I learned that if I'm going to deal with the crazy holiday time in my personal life, I must start holiday production much earlier in my professional life. The two cannot coexist. For that, the production schedule will be designed with seasonality in mind. Sure, pressing Christmas ornaments in July will feel weird, but I clearly see now it's necessary. 

Third: Health is Wealth Your art depends on your well–being, simple as that. So take care of yourself first—physically and emotionally—because if you collapse, your art will collapse right alongside you. Learned that the hard way! Identify what stresses and drains you, and minimize them. Then identify what replenishes and rejuvenates you, and seek those situations whenever possible. You owe it to yourself and your art.

For a working artist, in particular, this is really important. I mean, let's face it, I don't get paid for sick days or personal days, and there's no one to fill in for me if I can't make it into work. I'm all I've got, and I only get paid for what I create—and all of that depends on my well–being. 

I realize now that I must become far more protective of myself because I'm the only one who can. What did surprise me, though, was just how quickly I reached my limits because now hard work and stress are cumulative. Age does matter! Each hour of running on empty adds up nowadays, and when the inevitable vapor lock comes, it takes a lot more than a good night's rest to bounce back. Point taken.

The fact of the matter is that now "taking care of myself" applies to each day because an aging body and stressed psyche have a harder time compensating. There's nothing wrong with that, of course—it's a part of life—but it occurs to me now that I'm a young person in a middle–aged body wondering what the heck happened!

But I'm also reminded of Tony Bennett's comment about "sinning against one's talent." That idea resonates with me. I've come to realize that my life isn't entirely my own—I share it with family and friends, yes, but also with my art. I live a symbiotic life in more ways than one. For my work to flourish then, so must I. 

Me thinks the old adage applies here as well, that even "too much of a good thing is bad for you." If I want to reach my artistic goals during my lifetime then, I can't be the hare anymore, I gotta be the tortoise. I gotta work smarter.

But it's also no coincidence that my other favorite chestnut is, "the only way around it is through it." If you're in my house for any length of time, you'll probably hear my husband's daily mantra of, "why don't you listen to me?" followed by mine, "Oh, I do listen, I just disregard what you say." So there he was, warning me for weeks about my pace and there I was, blithely ignoring him and augering headlong into my very own custom–made crater. Mom just rolled her eyes. She knows all to well the howl of futility when faced with my bullheadedness.

 

And what a crater it was! So at this stage in my life, I need to strike a new balance because not only is my art changing, I am too. Never thought that how I created my art would evolve as a function of how I'm evolving, but, well...live and learn!  

 

Fourth: KISS of Life This whole ridiculous debacle finally proves to my inner OCD workaholic that I cannot do it all, all the time. The clock just isn't that flexible anymore because I'm becoming far less tolerant to stress. 

 

So to minimize stresses, my life must be simplified, at least until I figure out this new balance. So I decided this year to focus on getting my business back on track via immediate strides, both for financial and psychological reasons. Keeping my eyes on one prize, while also minimizing disruptions, will (hopefully) inspire a more reasonable pace, keeping bottlenecks at bay and not piling my plate quite so high. "Manageable bites" will be my motto in 2012.

 

So for one, my book is on hold until these transitions even out. For another, workshops and field trips I planned for this year are now off the calendar. More still, certain projects must be completed before I start new ones. How I run my studio will be streamlined, too, with some rather long–delayed changes now moved up on the priority list. Travel will be greatly limited because I cannot afford the stress. Award commissions and donations will be suspended, and I'm only going to focus on three new R&D projects rather than dozens.

In the end, I hope these temporary sacrifices will pay off and I'll come back stronger than ever this year. I'm also happy to report that all the chaos in my personal life appears to have leveled off (knock on wood), so I only have to really focus on my professional life. Lemme tell ya, that's a relief in and of itself!

So in that light, creating a disaster like Christmas 2011 isn't so foolish. Hey, we all do really dumb things with the best of intentions! The foolishness is not learning from our implosions to doom ourselves to repeating them over and over. What did Einstein say? Oh yes, "Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

So my greatest challenge this year will be sculpting myself into a better, updated version. It won't be easy—I know how stubborn and dismissive I can be. It'll be interesting to be my own Inquisitor, but I suspect Mom and Ham will carry concealed cattle prods to motivate me along the right path. So yes Ham...yes Mom—I'm listening now! Regardless, though, I suspect more Hammies will be born in the process, so I suppose it's all good in the end.

"The reward of suffering is experience." ~Aeschylus

I Am My Own Doomsday Device