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Tip of the Day:
Slop buckets. There, I said it. I love my reclaimed clay and haven't afforded a mixer or a pug mill sooooo ..... We keep two buckets in the wheel throwing area dedicated to scrap and hand water. By the time one is full, all the particles are pretty well soaked and there's a good bit of water on the top. We found we like to dump in our hand water because it contains all those lovely, slippy, small particles that give the clay its elasticity. Anyway, as one bucket gets full and the other is starting to be used, it's time to pull all the water and super wet stuff off the top, put it in the other bucket and empty the rest onto a large sheet of plastic on the wedging table. That's where we mix it up really well with our hands, pulling out any obviously hard lumps (and of course, all those missing sponges). I let it sit that way overnight. In the morning, I move it by hand-fulls onto the plaster surface of the wedging table, spread it out about an inch thick and leave it there for the day. By the end of the day, it's ready to be peeled off the table. I slam it together into ten pound blocks and double bag it into old clay bags. Or, if I'm in a wedging mood, I wedge. Lovely.
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Sunday, May 30th 2004
Only in England...uh, well now around the world. We can't wait to post our first extreme ironing experience from Johsua Tree National Monument(right in our back yard). Check out the newest extreme sport at [link]. So multi-faceted, so appealing, so...extrememe. Read More
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Thursday, April 8th 2004
Coming May 1st and 2nd is the first annual Chuckwalla Fest -- As part of the High Desert Living Arts (a 501c3 public benefit), we're up to our necks in many different aspects of this festival. It's amazing how it's coming together -- feeling very "done/danced" again as is just about everyone else involved -- Magic. Check it out at [link] Read More
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Friday, February 20th 2004
Why do people always have to do things "on purpose"? Read More
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Friday, February 20th 2004
When I started to get into my art I was surprised by two things. First, that I didn't know what anything I made meant until it was done. I just get a picture of something that wants to come out, then towards the end of making it, it has relevance -- usually on several levels (I guess metaphor works that way!).
The second thing that surprised me was how dark my work is and that I like that its dark (I'm a pretty positive and optimistic person, really)...
Take "Mask for Baby." I just started playing with the clay one day, while I was talking with someone. I didn't set out on some massive mask-making project. Picked a convenient size, then realized that I wanted it to be functional. Okay, it's a mask for a baby then. It hit me like a ton of bricks! "What does that mean? Why is that concept tweeking me out? Why would a baby need a mask? They're pure and perfect and innocent. Well, so are we. But it's perfectly acceptable for us to wear masks ..." Mask for Baby. How does it make you feel?
My friend Lillith from Hollywood who really wants to be pregnant totally got it. "You may as well put the mask on it sooner than later, the way this world is," she said. "It's doing to end up with one anyway!" She was actually upset by my art. That was very gratifying. (Another surprise.) --Amara Read More
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Saturday, February 14th 2004
The parts and pieces of this were created spontaneously about two years ago and finally assembled, in its own time, a couple of months ago. It sits in our co-op gallery, High Desert Living Arts [link]a few doors down from our pottery.
I suppose the title says it all -- "Hold it Together." I keep feeling it's not a coincidence it's a woman. Perhaps just projection, but I think there's something more. There's something about the wobble. There's a hope, I think, that with help, even with the wobble, the bowl will be able to hold itself up at some point. Read More
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The clay is doing us and we like it that way. The effect happens to be a manifestation of form -- pots and pieces that belong to people -- some we know, some we don't, yet. Our job is to get the pots to the people to whom they belong. |
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