First day of the studio


I turned on my kiln for the first time since 2007. The temperature gauge no longer works. Something must have happened to it in the move. This is a problem.

I did manage to do some work, but I also overfired things, because I was depending on the color of the inside of the kiln to let me know how hot it was. Not good. Enamels are sensitive to temperature, and I'm out of practice. Also, repeatedly looking at red hot things causes cataracts eventually. This is a problem that potters experience.

Back in the art school days, the health implications of being an artist seemed so far off. Even so, I have always worked with both a dust mask and a bandana over my nose and mouth, to protect from silicosis.

Getting back to enameling, which I had not done seriously since 1998, was an interesting experience. There was so much I forgot, but I allowed my body to remember, then followed it.

For example, I was getting ready to sift my first layer. I got out the paper to work over, and the sifter, then reached for the Klyr Fire, before I remembered that I didn't have a container for it. Klyr Fire is a product that holds the enamel in place until the firing, at which point the Klyr Fire burns off. So I went back to the house to get one. I did this a number of times, with multiple items, including an iPod dock.

The studio is in an old trailer which is on our property. It's not that far, but it's not right out the door either.

Finally, I was ready, but I felt strangely naked, despite the heavy sweater and the hat (I didn't have the heat on).
Bandana, I realized. My mouth and nose were uncovered. So back to the house I went, and then finally, I was ready.

This would be easier if it wasn't so cold over there, but it's expensive to run a kiln and more so to heat an old trailer. I need for my art to generate some income. By next Christmas season, I should be up and rolling, and will not be working in a place where you can see your breath.

The first weird incident was that I opened the kiln and set off the fire alarm. Apparently, it's heat sensitive, and the kiln was right across the (tiny, it's a trailer) hall from the kiln. So Kurt came over and disconnected it, and I got back to work.

As I said, I had problems with overfiring (getting the piece so hot the colors break), but I made this little dish to give to a friend from my writing group. It's done with flux, which is clear enamel, and fires very hot. It's almost impossible to overfire flux.

Our writers group is having our yearly Christmas party on Tuesday. The rest of the group will get presents from my first batch of tins for the season, but one of the writers has a weight problem and diabetes. I hope he doesn't feel singled out, but I couldn't see giving him things like coconut bars and bourbon truffles.

Tomorrow, I will do a far more organized work session. It's fun realizing how much I once knew, and still know. I just have to fetch it out of there.
And do a web site. And an Etsy site. Ugh.

Comments