Mud Heals

My pottery class started back tonight.  I'm now in Ceramics II, which means, presumably, that I know what I'm doing.  (Ha.)

I put my new nifty noiseblocking earbuds in (bought because, quite frankly, I didn't know where in the world my regular set had gotten off to this afternoon), set my iPod to shuffle some Beatles, and started handbuilding 30 minutes before class was actually set to begin.  I had a design in mind that came to me sometime early this morning when I was getting dressed.  I have a necklace with a smiling moon face on it and quote from Lennon's lyrics, "And we all shine on/like the moon and the stars/and the sun..." on it.  I started kicking around the idea of an intricate moon face then, and it grew from there.

I got the piece built.  It took me about two and a half hours, and the time I spent lost in the application and addition of bits of clay to the circle base I started with was sheer bliss.  The face itself is the best one I've done yet; if it doesn't crack and if it survives the kiln, I think it will be nice.  A lot is going to depend on the glaze, and I can't make up my mind on how to approach it yet -- brights, underglazes, subtle, sparing, total, gloss overglaze....the options bewilder me.  Maybe looking at it again next week will help bring clarity.

It's amazing how good I feel when I'm working in clay.  There is no stress (unless I'm trying to keep something from killing itself and other people on the wheel), only the satisfaction and challenge of trying to make what's in my hands match what's in my head.  I honestly think I could do it all day long.  Maybe I have what Mr. G. calls "mud in the blood."  I kind of like the thought of that.