I think my life is charmed. Let me give you an example. Yesterday Richard and I drove to Seattle (completely underslept, having packed my truck in the pouring rain the night before) to install the Tin Man’s contribution to the show of work from woodfire kilns of the northwest timed in conjunction with NCECA. All was well: a few hiccups, a few questions, whatever, the venue looks good, hung out with an old friend in the evening, slept in a euro-chic hostel next door, take care of small things this morning, and drive home to Portland in the sunshine. Drop off Richard in time for him to make an important meeting, and start driving home. I get to downtown and there are these new light-rail tracks set into the right-hand lane of a four-lane artery, and I have no power steering in my 48-year old pickup: it feels weird to have that steel and gap under the tire. But after a few hundred feet, its not just weird, it’s amiss… I pull into Sheridan’s and have difficulty parking. I think well, lets just drive around a side-street for a sec… all of a sudden I have no brakes. No brakes! …… well, AAA was there in less than five minutes. Zip zop, and I’m at my mechanic’s. Seven minutes pass and I’m on the right bus. Three minutes and I’m transferred to another bus. It takes me about an hour and a half more time to get home than I expected, but all the pots that I formed, bisqued, glazed, fired, cleaned, packed, drove, unpacked, installed.. are in Seattle where they should be. I had already arranged to catch a ride with Mandy to the Jack Troy workshop and up to Seattle for the conference. My mechanic has a week and a half to fix my dear Moby, and I don’t even need groceries. I’m safe, I’m situated, I’m drinking prosecco, I got to spend time with my amazing friend last night… I mean… what am I doing right here? … thank you? Thank you…. who?

So NCECA is here, and I’m hustling. Everybody’s excited, I’ll buy some sweet pots from the artstream, awkwardly bump into people I haven’t seen in years, see some amazing work all over town (Nordstrom has clay shoes in their window display!), end up with more questions than answers, kick myself for this response or that mishap, laugh my head off with people I haven’t seen in years, and then it will all be over. I’d be fine with just that. But this is the catch: I’m not just showing a few pieces in a gallery or two during that time, but have a significant amount of work for sale at this show. The owner of Pots gallery. Mike Peck, is a woodfire enthusiast, and had his eye on a sweet old building was used for Eagles meetings, and now art and who knows what else: it’s a hall in Fremont, and for NCECA he converted it into a space where the owners of kilns that fire with wood can show work with their crew. Its really nice for me to be able to exhibit not just my work, but offer the opportunity to my crew who may not have such a chance otherwise. Obviously there will be openings everywhere and mystery and mayhem, but if you’re at nceca, please do stop by on Friday evening… Oddfellows Hall, 3509 fremont ave, to say hello. yes, it's on the shuttle loop. Mike seems like a very dear man and he has organized shows at pots gallery as well as the Gail Nichols show and David Hollander. This show is cool in that there’s such a huge variety of kilns- from student-friendly cat kilns on college campuses to gorgeously sculpted anagamas in the woods to kilns that have survived over a hundred firings, and of course, the Tin Man, yours truly, owned and constructed by the only woman, and reprazentn’ quite well if I do say so myself. Here’s the facebook event post with the full press release. I wrote the releases for this show and the woodfire cups show to work off part of our participation fee. Nice to exercise my new skills learned from Portland Open Studios.

Hope to see you out painting the town!

Chopin’s Nocturnes drift up from the studio as I sit at a desk below one of two big skylights in the attic. About one of the past five years has been consumed in the piecemeal construction of the space above my carriage house studio into a bedroom and living space. I finished the last chapter on Sunday (and, sigh, must promptly tend to other urgent tasks, as usual). The space is as wide as the footprint below (380 sq feet), with a 6 foot peak: a worthy amount of space. But was it ever a back-breaker of a project!- constantly hunched or jammed into a tight corner with a hundred year old layer of dirt and nails poking through the shingles. Hooray for torque-drive framing screws! And much of the materials were reclaimed: ship-lap flooring, cabinet doors, fir panels, insulation, dumpster dimensional lumber, an octagonal window... But what one does not pay for in clean materials, one must pay for in labor. Someone tell me why I undertook this project on property that isn’t mine…. Well, I do know, somewhat… the awkward girl has grown into a capable woman. But toughness alone will not answer the human urge for stability. My landlady and I may have shockingly different approaches to yard care, but we are perfectly aligned on the subject of a safe space. She appreciates me as I am, she extends an angel’s wing over me as a person and over the ceramics operation that’s probably bigger than she ever imagined. I am sheltered under these trees, and we all feel the coming storm.

There will always be maintenance, but with that done, a kitchen, shed, garden, and awesome kiln constructed, I am now FINISHED with the material investment stage of establishing myself in Portland. Now for the hard part: becoming a unicorn: an autonomous potter actually making a living wage off her work. The internship doing PR work for Portland Open Studios is also coming to a close now: about 1200 hours over the past two years. I have sort of learned a more gentle language and some more computer skills, I’ve interviewed some great artists, learned how I can use but don't love facebook, and gotten a sense of how to deal with the media. I’ve learned that even though I can actually fake it at the business suit meetings (thanks to pieces of my mother’s wardrobe!), I’m still miles more comfortable in torn shirts with my potters. And this last point is very significant for me: spending this much time essentially volunteering will likely silence the monkeys in my head telling me that I’m selfish for chasing this dream of indy studio ceramics when it is so clearly not economically viable. What did Simon Levin quip?: "Woodfire: work harder, not smarter!"

Well, teamwork has always been key to solving the impossible. Not a month had passed between when I had created a space for an assistant to when I was very loosely interviewing Mandy Stigant. She is a recent grad of the same program I attended, and we found an instant kinship in many surprising ways. She spends some evenings and days here making pots in exchange for the promise of her help with art fairs next year. My goal is four firings and four shows. NCECA will be one of them: look for the Tin Man and his crew represented at a show across from Pots Gallery called Woodfire Kilns of the Northwest. I will also finally get my applications out to places like Akar and the Signature Shop. I think my work has matured enough to try.

But I’m still focused locally. This coming weekend and the next, all you Portlanders who love clay, please swing by Mudshark Studios’ new location near Sandy and 20th. Twenty one ceramics professionals are exhibiting in a holiday sale. I’m talking about sweet little pots, slip-cast growlers, and gnarly big sculpture. The likes of Katy McFadden, Richard Brandt, Brad Mildrexler, yours truly (and Mandy’s puzzles too!) … or at least come join us for live music and a keg of Widmer Bro’s brew on the Friday nights… check out canowoop.com for details. We’re on the OPA map as Christy Lombard. See you there!

Have a warm and friend-filled holiday!

Careen