A fine plant, however it’s “pot” has been a plastic bag for quite some time. Since it lives in a pottery studio this was almost shameful.

So I got to work.

Not only was this a nice thing to do for the tree, but also gave me a chance to make a huge two-parter pot. This is something I had never attempted before and I just went for it. The idea here is that you throw two separate pieces, the top piece being simply a bottomless cylinder, and stack them together. This way you are able to create much taller items than you would maybe be able to in one go.

So here I flipped the cylinder tube upside-down on top of the bottom piece. I waited a day before doing this to make sure the pieces were firm enough and would not simply collapse.

Look at that big ole rim! Lots of trimming to do.

Much better.

It was definitely becoming wonkier the more I trimmed it and starting to sag on one side, so I stacked a bunch of sponges under that side and left it for another day.

One thing I hadn’t really understood before attempting such a large piece was the need to go slowly. I had been told this before and just figured it was because more care must be taken. This is true in part, but what struck me when I was making it firsthand was that with such a large circumference the same spot on the pot takes so much longer to make the rounds so to speak. Instead of waiting for a full rotation, I ended up moving a bit too quickly and made more of a spiral up the pot.

Hence, the wonkiness. But the pressure was off with this pot. I was just making it for the tree, so I was free to experiment. I didn’t think the tree would mind too much.

Here she is painted. I used some old engobes we had lying around the studio. Engobes are basically just very wet clay with added pigments. It’s important to know if your engobe clay matches and will fuse well with the clay of your pot. I did not do this and some of the colors flaked off a bit after firing. No matter.

Voilà! Let’s see if the tree likes it.

Well, it does fit…

But honestly, even though it is the largest pot I have ever made by far, it is a bit too small for the tree. Oops!

Sooo, back to the old drawing board…

This time, I’m coiling. This lovely blue clay is extremely groggy, which means I was able to fly through building this.

Some more experimentation and a free flowing creative process turned this out. I had no vision what this would become when I started out. Each step of the process led to the next, which felt very liberating. There was some failure, some backtracking, but overall I am happy with where it ended up (and I just won’t go into the fact that the snake would rather not stay fused to the pot). I also made it just a touch too wide for our kiln and had to smoosh it into an oval shape at the top.

This is still yet to be fired, so fingers crossed she makes it through in one piece!

Fall, for me, is the most nostalgic of seasons. In some ways it feels like this is when the year starts up, due to decades of “new school year energy.” But the flora says differently. The leaves are just starting to change color and make the sidewalks crunchier, the garden I volunteer at has shifted most of it’s energy to the harvest, and my balcony garden has seen better days. The energy I threw into it that came so naturally in the spring and summer has faded, biding it’s time until it can unleash itself once again.

During the summer I did not do too much traveling. I maximized my time closer to home in the studio. I have been trying to build back up to the level of production I had at the end of my time in New Mexico, but it is slow going. There is more to the set-up process than I thought, with finding new clays, testing everything rigorously, and working out how to schedule time in the studio during my week along with all my other activities and work. I do believe I am throwing and creating with more intention and a more critical eye for detail and form. It is also nice to sit with the knowledge that I have time to build everything up here (again). I don’t have the stress-productivity of having only limited time before I move.

The biggest new thing I did in the summer is begin teaching beginner pottery lessons! I already have a few under my belt with as many more to come as demand will allow, which I do not expect to be an issue. There seems to be a hole in the market in this regard, even though Groningen is a decently sized city at almost 250,000 residents. It’s really been amazing to start this up. Before the first class I thought I would be more nervous as I had never taught fully alone before and it had been over a year since I had done it in New Mexico, but I was surprisingly calm and just excited to share the world of clay with new people. The first group was so lovely and reminded me why I fell down this rabbit hole in the first place. The properties of clay, the process of throwing, the constant circular spinning motion of the wheel, it’s really quite meditative. After the initial hubbub of demoing and going through the steps again with everyone on their own wheels, there comes a point when I realize everyone is in the zone and I can sit back and let everyone be. This is one of my favorite moments.

At the end of the day, being in this creative flow state is the real benefit. Sure, taking home one of their creations is validating, but I do think the bigger benefit for everyone is to take their minds off of their minds for a few hours, to reconnect with their body and hands, to get messy and fail a lot and realize this is okay. In our modern day world so many people are deeply attached to screen life, whether out of necessity at work or anxiously doom-scrolling after a long day. A lot of people have lost touch with this playful, creative being that sits inside every one of us, either through lack of opportunity or a belief that they are “not creative people,” which is simply not true. Anyone who wants to create, can. Ultimately, I hope to reconnect people with the side of themselves and provide lightness and fun.

That’s all I have for you this time around. Enjoy the following photos of some completed works from the summer and keep on creating!

The SouthWest Deco cocktail mugs. A commission from a friend. They have been tested and work well :)

The rainbow snails! I had made quite a few “extra” pots when making the SW mugs. These I turned into planters. I can’t wait to see them with baby plants.

And lastly, my rebuttal to people calling pigeons “rats with wings,” which I find offensive to both rats and pigeons.

On a more fun note, summer has begun! Summer is such an enjoyable season. People are more relaxed, lighter, they prioritize hanging out, BBQing, swimming, going on trips. Maybe this feeling of freedom has carried over since we were all kids and summers felt incredibly lengthy, this entire “other” world in between the enforced schooling structure.

These free feelings and activities have also probably contributed to the the reason I have struggled so much in getting this newsletter out on time. I have always been a procrastinator. Perhaps more apparent when school deadlines loomed, but now I am realizing there are actually quite a lot of deadlines that need to be met as an artist, along with a lot more computer work than I think the average person realizes.

Summer began here with a beautiful sunny 30°C (86°F) day. But, as is typical for a Dutch summer, it did not persist. The last few days we have seen temperatures drop again. A blustery wind has been whipping through and rain storms have been cooling everything off. When I was growing up in Indiana, I got used to the idea of packing away my colder weather clothes in April or May and not even thinking about them until September at the very earliest. Now I have to adjust to Carpe diem-ing the nice days knowing they will not last.

My spring went by quickly. I must admit I did absolutely zero work on building my website. I have some excuses though. My mother came to visit my home here for the very first time. We spent many lovely days wandering around this walkable city and going to various birding areas.

For those unaware, “birding” refers to the act of finding and looking at birds. Usually with binoculars. People who do this are called “birders.” This might sound unassuming and innocent enough, but let me assure you, once you catch the birding bug, there is no going back. And my mother has definitely caught the bug - hook, line, and sinker.

Other than that wonderful distraction, another one I had the great fortune and privilege to experience was a return to the Southwest for a couple weeks of travel with some Dutch buds. We spent a much too brief time in Albuquerque and I saw many of my pottery friends and was able to pick up a lot of Coyote glazes I had left behind, much to the chagrin of my car companions, but we did make it work.

Upon my return to the Netherlands, I began going to the studio in earnest. It feels great to be able to do this, to be able to see projects begin and run through to completion, being able to time work to better facilitate this process. Clay is all about timing. How dry or wet something is truly determines what you can do with it. And so it is of course beneficial to be with your work all day to be able to cover it up or expose it, to move it in or out of sunlight. And to be able to go in multiple days in the week and move projects along.

The community at the studio is ever so slowly building up. The new system of opening it up more is on its second month and seems to be off to a good start. Everyone is still figuring out their “roles” so to speak, working out who is best at doing what to maintain a well-run, functioning studio. It feels empowering and exciting and I am ready for what this summer will bring.

In my home studio space, I have been reconstituting the dry glazes I brought back. This has been an enjoyably monotonous project. My “day-job” is at a pizza place and the multiple mozzarella buckets we go through everyday are the perfect size and sturdiness for all the glazes.

As for my work, I got pushed into beginning to create again finally this spring by a good acquaintance who asked me about a Great Blue Heron cup I have up on my instagram as a gift to her husband. I had already sold that particular one but I gave another crack at it and made two, along with a couple wood duck mugs. Maybe the birding bug has caught up to me as well…

There is a lot more work in the works and I can’t wait to share it all with you.

For now, enjoy the photos and happy creating!

Below, you will see some works in progress. I was tasked from another friend to make him some cocktail mugs “Southwest inspired.” These have yet to go through the first firing.

And because you never want to throw only exactly what you need, I ended up with extra pots which I turned into little rainbow snail pots. Also yet to be fired.

Here in the Netherlands we have just had a full week of blue sky, sunny days. People are smiling more and taking off their jackets. There are huge fields of crocuses blooming all throughout the city (the Dutch don’t mess around when it comes to their bulbs). The terraces are filling up again with people enjoying an afternoon beverage and the big park close to me has taken on a lingering spirit once again.

I spent a lot of the winter building in order to have the sort of smooth creative flow space that will allow me to make again in earnest. I have such a back-log of bottled up ideas right now and can’t wait to make them into reality.

The two big things I have tackled this winter were to create a home-studio space and to start to build a website.

For my home-studio space, I tore out carpet from the smallest room here and put in laminate. This is vital if working with clay or other dusty products since you want to be able to clean up after yourself efficiently. I had never worked with laminate before and it was sort of enjoyable, but I was also glad the room was not any bigger.

I have been borrowing a pottery wheel for a while now (thanks, Jonathan!) and have a three-bucket system for cleaning. All I would need to be totally self-sufficient is a kiln, but since that is a big road to go down I am content for now to bring my wares over to the studio I also go to.

Although, one fun resource I stumbled upon during my kiln research is a website called: kilnshare.com Check it out! It is a database of more than 1,000 kilns from all over the world connecting kiln owners with people who wish to rent one, saving resources and building community in one fell swoop. I love it.

For my website, I had stumbled upon this blog about building a website a year or so ago and decided to give it a try. The blogger goes into step-by-step detail bringing you through the process. It seemed easy enough. Of course, it wasn’t.

There was utter frustration at times, hours of YouTube video explanations and reddit threads. It seemed like every time I figured something out and got a little closer a whole new set of problems and decisions would open up. Luckily, in today’s world, resources abound. Experts on probably literally anything are in no short supply. Whenever I got stuck I managed to figure it out. I now have the hang of it, so the going is faster and, dare I say, even a little bit fun. I am hoping to have it up and running soon and y’all will be the first to see it!

Beyond this practical movement, I have been thinking about pottery in a broader sense. How, for me at least, such a huge part of it is the community aspect. I always entered new studios just wanting to throw pots, but inevitably I would become intertwined with the communities that came with them. Maybe more than any other art form, pottery breeds this.

Even if I were to have a totally self-sufficient system, at this stage in my journey, I would not want to limit myself to only that. Coming together over a shared love or curiosity about clay, expanding our knowledge base, sharing resources, these are all part of a larger vision of a whole clay community.

And as luck would have it, the woman who runs the studio I go to (the one I left two years ago when I moved back to America) is just now launching into exactly this vision. I am not sure what it will look like, but that is the beauty of it. To see who comes together, who offers their time, knowledge, resources to build a space which we can all be a part of and share.

We all have the power to shape our communities. In fact, we are our communities. We will never know how far the ripples of our influence go in this world, which is a comforting thought when it all feels much to big to handle at times.

This is a good place to leave it and ties into a quote I want to share from an amazing book I am reading by M.C. Richards, Centering: In Pottery, Poetry, and the Person

The world is always bigger than one’s own focus. And as we bring ourselves into center wherever we are, the more of the world we can bring into service, the larger will be the capacity of our action and our understanding.

Bye for now everyone.

Happy creating!

Emily

P.S. Some before and after photos of the studio creation, featuring Iffy and Earl :)

Over the past few years, pottery has increasingly taken over my life. When I first began going to a studio years ago I never had any intention to make it into a career or business. I did it mostly to get out of the house and out of my head. But now it feels like I cannot not do this in a serious way. I feel compelled to. Through choosing this one medium and life path, potential other lives I could lead has narrowed down. But then, incredibly, an entirely new universe has opened up. This is what I find so amazing. The further I go into clay, the more I learn, and the more I learn how much more there is to learn. It’s never ending. And I am extremely grateful for that.

My path in pottery has not been straightforward. Besides one class in college, the first time I started going regularly to a studio was a couple of years after I moved to Albuquerque for the first time. I was immediately hooked, but for the next several years had a lot of stops and starts. I have now been to four separate studios, two in the U.S. and two in the Netherlands. Each one allowed, or forced, me to grow in a new direction. For example, the studio I went to before moving back to Albuquerque only supplied clear glaze. This could have felt limiting but instead I delved deeply into underglaze and began to explore sgraffito.

As I was set to return to New Mexico, almost exactly two years ago, I felt apprehensive that I would lose the momentum of what I had begun to accomplish in the Netherlands. A few months before leaving I had launched my business: The Potted Cocoon, and had begun selling my work. However, returning ended up being the best thing that could have happened. I landed a job at Coyote Clay and Color, which is a huge glaze manufacturing company. Not only did I learn how glaze is made from scratch and took part in this process, I had access to their studio as well. This studio was bigger than any of the others I had been a part of and I was astounded to see how much creativity and how many ideas were flowing through there. It was inspiring to say the least.

In Albuquerque, I committed to pottery in a way I hadn’t before. And through committing to many more hours than I had done previously, I found my style. There was a sort of magic in this discovery that’s hard to explain. If you sit a few strangers down and have them throw a pot they will all do so in their own unique way and each pot will look different. I saw this even when teaching complete beginners. Their personal style was already coming through.

My personal style as I see it gravitates toward animals and other critters with whom we share this earth. Humans tend to put themselves on a pedestal, separate themselves from the natural world. While we have indeed accomplished astonishing feats, we have also had profoundly devastating impacts. I do not believe we are any more worthy of living on this planet than any other being is. In my own very tiny way I hope to remind people of the breathtaking amount of biodiversity on this extremely unique planet and perhaps spark some curiosity along the way.

Now I find myself back in the Netherlands. Everything feels remarkably familiar, almost like I never left. Just today I went to say hello at the studio I used to go to and ended up throwing a couple of pots. Apart from using my tiny wheel during my transition month in the midwest, I haven’t thrown since September and man does it feel good. Looking ahead there is much to be done, but looking ahead too far gets overwhelming fast and I already feel behind. So I am trying to give myself grace and let myself first just settle in again. You can only eat an elephant one bite at a time.

I will leave you all with a quote from “Art and Fear” by David Bayles and Ted Orland

“Uncertainty is the essential, inevitable and all-pervasive companion to your desire to make art. And tolerance for uncertainty is the prerequisite to succeeding.”

As they say here, Fijne Feestdagen!

Until next time,

Emily

P.S. ABQ folks! At the end of summer I was lucky enough to be approached by a woman who owns a plant shop in town to see if I wanted to sell my work there. This was one of the most validating experiences I have had so far in my art career. There may be pots yet to be sold so if you are in need of any last-minute Christmas presents, check them out: The Groovy Little Greenhouse