I will start with the good stuff.
My wonderful husband bought me a kiln for Mother's Day! I am absolutely thrilled...now I don't have to worry about breakages during transport, which has happened on one fateful trip to the studio recently. (More on that later, since I am supposed to be talking about the good stuff now) I waited two weeks to fire it up for the first time because a)I needed a part that was coming in the mail, and b)because I was -- frankly -- nervous. I knew absolutely nothing...nada...about kilns except the verrrrry basics. I saw an ad in Craigslist for a kiln that was bright, shiny and in our price range, and we went to see it. I followed the online advice on buying a used kiln, and this one seemed to pass muster, except for the fact I couldn't test it to see if the elements were working because they didn't have the correct power supply in their home. We talked ourselves in and out of the purchase for a couple of days, and then just decided to bite the bullet and go for it. The couple we bought it from were very nice, and they told us that the kiln used to be their grandmother's, who used it more as a hobby kiln once in a while. It hadn't been used in a decade, and when she died, it ended up with her granddaughter. It is in great shape, and I hope I am able to get many years use out of it. It is funny thinking about the fact that one year before we bought the kiln, this little business of mine was barely a twinkle in our eyes. What an amazing year this has been.
One reason we waited to fire up the kiln, was because we had no shelter for it, or a safe place to keep it away from the children. My wonderful husband (or WH) as I should now be calling him, erected a metal shed under our covered back porch so I could fire the kiln without worry, and have a little place all my own to hide out, errr...I mean
work in. He is very proud of our little shed, and it looks much better than any beat-up display version I have seen. I bought a little magnet sign from vistaprint.com, and will stick it above the shed door, so I can look official and everything.
The other day, everything was in place. WH had installed the proper electric supply, all of my kiln furniture, shelves, cones, etc., were in their resting places, lighting in place, everything at a safe distance...the planets had aligned. I decided to do my very first firing. A glaze fire. I carefully read the instructions, and my excitement started building. I had several little footprints left from when I borrowed a friends little baby foot for sweet little color samples. I decided to just put everything I had in there that was ready, which wasn't really very many pieces, but enough to see various brilliant colors hopefully emerging from the kiln.
So...deep breath. Kiln furniture in place. Shelf in place. Stilts on ware. Not touching each other or sides? Good. Pyrometric cone placed carefully in kiln sitter supports. Open peepholes. Close lid. Open to check. Close lid. Open once more. WH wants to take pictures. Open lid. Yell at him not to take pictures of me all sweaty and harried. Close lid and shoo WH away. Glance at instructions for the 4th time. Push in kiln sitter button. Estimate time needed in case kiln sitter fails (no idea). Turn knob to set. Wait for two blinks of the red light. Move knob to 6. Cross fingers. Back away. Lock shed. Look at electric meter thingy spinning wildly and reassure WH nervously. Go to bed. Get up in middle of night to check kiln. 90 degrees inside shed...wow. Go back to bed. Get up again to check kiln. Kiln sitter has shut the kiln off -- cool! Still red hot, though. Go back to bed. Wait for the cool down. Open lid the next evening while holding breath and.....
(drumroll please) ...see the work of Salvidor Dali. I had overfired. Sniff. All of those little footprints were slumped over the stilts, completely embedded onto them, and there was not a hint of shine to them. Drat. BUT. Almost immediately I realized what had happened, and although I am not happy with myself for being so silly and using the wrong cone (I used a high- fire cone 6, instead of a low-fire cone 06.) I was relieved that the kiln seemed to work, and that it was human error instead of a kiln issue. So hooray! First firing with good results in a way. I've decided to view this experience as having a positive, educating outcome.
Before firing, looking down into the kiln:
After. (Sob)
Getting the stilts off the overfired ceramic the only way I knew how:
Now for my breakage woes. There was one day the other week where I just should not have gotten out of bed. Everything was going wrong -- the kids were nutty, the whole day was rushed and I was running late to everything, I was crabby. I had to bring some greenware to the studio for the final firing, plus I had a few large plaques that were already bisque fired and glazed and ready for the final firing. I usually have to enlist the help of WF during his long lunches, so I can run my pieces into the studio without worrying about bringing in the kids or having to park a long way away, since the studio is on a very busy main street. I usually have to carry at least a couple of large trays full of ware, so just hopping out of the car with them is ideal. That way, he goes and grabs lunch while I am dipping the glazed pieces and leaving them to be fired. On that day, during the drive to the studio, WH happened to brake pretty hard for some reason, and my trays slid and crashed into the back of the seat. We got out to check, and one of my better pieces of greenware was broken. I was crushed. I loved that particular piece, and was looking forward to seeing how it was going to turn out. I had to re-do it, and I hate making those calls. It was my first broken piece since my first orders, when another piece of greenware, a family plaque, broke in transport. Onward to the studio. I told WH that I was just going to run in, and ran around to the back of the van, opened the door, grabbed the trays, tried to shut the door by myself, and proceeded, in slow motion, to drop both trays on the ground, smashing two of the large glazed plaques all over the concrete. I just stood there, sniffling. WH got out and hugged me. OH, the agony of beautiful broken pottery!!! So many hours of work -- gone -- with one careless, hurried move.
But clay is clay, and these things happen. Accept it, girl. Where are bootstraps when you need them?
I have some wonderful news, though. I talked to my daughter's preschool director, showed her my example pieces, talked through some details, and I am proud and happy to say that she loved my work (if crying at the sight of
one of my pieces counts as "love") and would like to have me do not ONE, but TWO events during the next school year! She decided to have me come and do ornaments only in October, and do hand print picture plaques like
THIS one in the spring. I have been hoping for this gig for a long time and finally arranged it. I hope this is the beginning of many more events in the future for my little business.
