“All art is autobiographical. The pearl is the oyster’s autobiography.”
–Federico Fellini
So, there’s this: A ceramic incinerator sculpture that I ended up calling “Homefire 1957.” Other than perhaps a bomb shelter sculpture to exorcise my childhood’s deep fear of being annihilated in a nuclear war, nothing else quite portrays what was happening in my domestic and cosmic home at that time more than this piece. Yeah, it’s autobiographical.
Backstage is my beat: Barebones. Unbuttoned. A tad askew. Lighted only for tasks. Focus with chuckles, where the magic gestates.
Early in my pottery-marketing career (at a student sale) someone kindly schooled me in another form of transacting: “Artists don’t buy from each other, they trade!” she chided and grinned. And so we traded: hers for mine, mine for hers. It was right for all the right reasons.
I have now traded bunches of times. Some were as sweet and simple as that first, others not so much. I’m not often the one to suggest it, yet I usually don’t say no when a swap is proffered. That is mostly because I haven’t found a good rationale to refuse: a trade is always interesting, even if it goes awry. And every time it gets out of alignment (but never because of me! 😉 ) I get better at avoiding the pitfalls of forgetful, stingy, unskilled, or unrealistic traders, of which I have sadly met a few.
I recently wrote about this piece of mine – the Vitri-Oil Tea Can – which arrived for an important exhibit with the handle broken in five places. If you want the full story of the original heartbreak, you can read about that and then come back here for a recitation of events and the exciting conclusion in annotated timeline form.
Dear Molly,
Thank you for making the book New Ceramic Surface Design. It’s a corker and I am keeping it out for easy reference.
While I own a couple other treasured surface design books (Robin Hopper’s Making Marks and The New Ceramic Surface by Mattias Ostermann,) I have never read them cover to cover, penciling notes in the margins and flagging whole sections, like I have yours.
I know nothing you cover is a really new technique. Believe me, I have tried mishima, stamping, textures, doodles, resists, stencils and my favorite, sgraffito, many times before. I have watched DVDs, taken classes and explored the surface design chapters in many other books over the years. So what’s different and valuable about yours?
Here, I’ll tell you:
What I really can’t wait to use:
It pretty much all comes down to you being the generous and knowledgeable “friend with a good eye” you speak of on page 34.
Gratefully yours,
–Liz Crain, who also thinks the spiral binding is a nice touch so this reference book and be fully referenced.
I’m decidedly not a Calligrapher, Typographer or Sign Painter. Nor a Lettering Artist. And certainly NOT a Graphic Designer, as this journal entry whines on and on about. Yet the past school year spent with an indulgent, open-minded, but “nitpicking asshole” (his words) instructor leading me through these realms revealed a cool surprise. Turns out you can mangle it and still find happiness and beauty.
