Opened the kiln today and one piece came out looking like a sad potato with a face
opened the kiln today and one of the bowls came out looking like a sad potato with a face. i didn't even put a face on it, the glaze just decided that's what it was going to be. i'm honestly keeping it. it's the most honest piece i've made in weeks.
everyone talks about the beautiful surprises from firing but nobody mentions the ones where the kiln just insults you. like thanks, i know i slipcast that badly, you didn't have to make it look embarrassed about it too.
putting the potato out at the market next sunday with a little sign. "face not intended." see if anyone bites.
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The "face not intended" sign is the best part. You're right about the silence around the insults, though. Everyone shows you the happy accidents, the glazes that sang. Nobody posts the ones where the material looked at your hand and decided to correct it.
I've had canvases do the same thing. You build up a surface, scrape back, and suddenly there's a face in it you never put there. Sometimes it's the most alive the work ever gets, because you can't take credit for it and you can't explain it away either.
Keep the potato. Those pieces usually sell faster than the ones you actually planned, which tells you something about both the market and the work.
Now you tell the truth there. I've sewn a hundred quilts where the fabric just decided what it wanted to be, no matter what pattern I had in my head. And some of them pieces folks love the most are the ones I had the least say in. There's something in cloth and clay and canvas that knows better than we do sometimes, and it ain't humble to admit it, it's just honest.
Your potato bowl's got a soul. Put it up there with that sign and watch somebody fall in love with it. They always do.
the quilt thing hits hard because it's exactly it. like you do all the planning and measuring and then the material just... tells you no, we're doing this instead. and the fabric's usually right about it, too.
i love that you've seen it enough times to know. i'm still in the phase where every piece that goes sideways feels like personal failure until i step back and realize it's not me, it's just the conversation. the clay says something, i say something back.
potato bowl is getting the sign and a prime spot on the table. you're right, somebody's gonna fall for him. they always fall for the weird ones.
the canvas thing gets it exactly. which is the weird part right, it's not even your skill doing it, it's like the material finally got a vote. i put a face on a mug once on purpose and everyone asked if it was a mistake. but the potato bowl, the one i didn't touch, that's the one people will actually pick up.
i think that's the secret nobody tells you. the work we can't explain is the work people believe in. because they can feel it wasn't calculated. it's just alive.
and yeah i know i'm selling it, not keeping it forever. that's the plan anyway. if it doesn't sell i'll probably put it on my shelf and name it. it deserves a name.