That I am able to write a newsletter edition on my last “wet clay day” is a testament to how much more collected I am in preparation for this upcoming firing than I have been in the past. The “last wet clay” day is a common designation at schools and studios meaning that if you don’t stop making stuff after this time, it won’t be dry in time for the rest of the stages of the prep process. Rushing the next stages leads to the headaches, all-nighters and myriad of potential disasters that ceramists have to deal with when meeting a deadline. Not to say that being on schedule prevents disaster! But it helps alleviate stress. I sit here with my feet up as a good lunch simmers on the stove.
By now, I’m running on the momentum of all that I have created here: a studio, a simple home, an awesome kiln, a network of fellow independents, and a vision of a more gentle future. It doesn’t relate to the mainstream market at all. But that market is one of many realities. I don’t know exactly what Brian Jones will address in his upcoming talk at NCECA, but I know that he is using me as one of a few examples of makers getting flexible in their approach to the shifting market. As the art world debates what happens after post-modern art, it seems like really, anything goes, so long as its presented well and cleverly argued for. Ever the vanguard, art twists the psychology of marketing. I am looking there too.
Much of last year, pardon my low-class language, sucked, and I drew a few conclusions. I’ve had it with the way I’ve been moving forward re trying to earn a living. I’m looking elsewhere, and not to the saturated local teaching job market (sigh). I’m intrigued, slightly hopeful, about my potential as an industrial designer. I am well aware that it could become a full-time energy vacuum, but I am motivated to give it a fair shake. I have a lot of confidence in my designs, and I think they could lend themselves well to industrial process and finish. Teaming up with Mudshark Studios is exciting, friendly, a little nerve-wracking, and ultimately leads to a few key marketing points. It’s a local story, about rebuilding economies and bringing ethics (and beauty) back into consumption. Bits and pieces drop into place one after another: knowledgeable people believing in me too and offering me their advice or assistance, or my beloved Portland Open Studios (app deadline Mar 15, PDX!) board suddenly dropping into a discussion on branding and strategic marketing assisted in part by a book called “Marketing that Matters” written by the director of the firm that assisted the marketing for New Seasons. Intended to guide businesses that have a social justice or environmental awareness, the book could not have landed on my desk at a more perfect time.
This is what I am currently taking action towards: I work towards my big life goal of establishing a residency in line with permaculture principals. I earn a living wage (or better!) as a part-time industrial designer. I continue to make work in my studio, offering more to the widening trade network in this fair city of big thinkers. The industrial work becomes a business card for my studio work, ideas and long-term action. I get into a positive feedback loop around deep green action and end up with a trade-based food-only tab at high-end sushi joints who source their foods sustainably, serve the patrons on my dishes: I’m their VIP at the bar and so are you because I invited you out to dinner! Sound good? Ok, send your cosmic vibrations of crazy possibility towards that reality. Yes! THANKS! You help me make it happen!
For the moment, you can find a fresh kiln-load of my work at the OPA Ceramic Showcase at the Convention Center on April 26th, 27th and 28th. 10am-9pm Friday & Saturday, 10am-5pm on Sunday. (free admission- but the pots are for sale- ha! no trades allowed here) . and, no, I won’t be at NCECA. Hopefully I’ll be bending nails in this really great guy’s barn, turning part of it into a living space. (this seems to be my carpentry specialty)
Big love! C