Cup and handle as sandhill crane.....(with a revision after the 1st posting; I strengthened the neck and retook these photos)
Feathers too...
The inspiration: a gift from my son Amory of his illustration of me as a sandhill crane...yes, that's right...me as a sandhill crane....
More folds and curves as the handle and cup emerge from the base....being 60 is only just a little different than being 59....
Waves and folds as cup and handle flow together after a record breaking 8 hours of delicate work (it fought being finished!) This may be related to it's status as the last cup I will make while I am 59 years old and as you can see it is also Cup #59...it just turned out that way. Tomorrow I turn 60! SO, the next cup I make will be Cup #60 and it will be the first cup I make upon turning 60...stay tuned..
More sculpting!....the cup is held softly by swirling bands in the base that sweep up to form the handle...softly, swirling, sweeping, swan....
A very small cup...and a very big handle that very early split apart and fell off the cup leaving a small remaining section which I then worked with to this more delicate result. The body of the cup is very much held at the base by the handle. The handle then becomes very busy curling around a seed, flowing up it's cup, and splitting into soft interconnected sections.
Two hours (and a lot of trust) later. Simple flowing in which the cup becomes handle and the handle becomes cup....
Here is the handle in the rough just after attachment. Notice the slip oozing out between the handle and the cup at the base...(slip is wet clay slurry that helps the handle stay attached through the contraction of drying and firing). I have to trust that if I pay good attention to the handle it will transform from clunky/ugly into fluid/beautiful. The pleasure comes in the transformation.
The handle flows from soft waves in the base...curls in confusion, undecidedly undulates up the cup and spills over the rim...two stretching open forms find safe places and join in...
The handle sweeps up from pulsating ridges in the base then spills over just as it reaches the rim...more tender places as my fingers find their way in the soft clay...
Half way to 100.... the handle emerges with fluidly from the base in tenderly formed, drooping (sad?..yes) curves....
The handle vine becomes more fluid as I trust my fingers to find their way around the soft clay...
The last cup before summer in Canada....I loved this cup so...full embracing, fluidity....it's was hard to leave...
The handle vine splits at the base, moves up the cup, curls, and splits open again as a seed emerges...
48 cups all together drying on the shelf in my studio....3 still wrapped in plastic to slow the drying.
The wrapping vine sends out supporting shoots that energetically embrace this small delicate cup...
Two vines merge and split apart.....two small dimpled protrusions begin to form at the base.
A simple vine handle spirals around the small pulsating cup form...the base splits into folds.
A solid base supports a full wide bulbous opening of the cup form then a tightening at the top into swirling ridges that again reveal the finger pulling lines created with the turning of the wheel....the angular handle takes a more rounded dimpled shape...
Angles, creases, folds...the handle emerges from the cup then turns and rejoins into the base. Seeds emerge from the openings in the base and erupt on the handle.
The cup form reveals that which a potter works against when throwing...it is that which is not supposed to be: deep finger ridges, uneven outline, collapsing handle. AND YET....somehow it has its own integrity and balance. A whirling, swirling little cup whose existence so obviously reveals the turning of the wheel.
The messy potter's wheel from which a ball of clay is turned into a cup. A water bowl, tools, and sponges and 5 new cups line the shelves (cups #32-36) Above the wheel hangs a drawing of a woman (with a cup!) that has hung above the wheel since 1989 drawn by my son, Amory, at age 9. Next to the drawing hangs postcard of a very old photograph of a woman dancing close to the edge of a rock that juts out high above a canyon.
An exuberant intention to make a very large cup resulted in a collapse during its throwing. I slowed down and kept the small remaining clay at its base and turned it into a very small delicate cup, 3 1/2" tall. The handle remained large and embraces the little cup....
Two vines embrace and a petal falls over the lip of the cup..new life emerges from a trumpeting vine...the cup form bulges and tightens down into an energetic base.
Handle vine splits apart.... new life emerges. The "unleashing" that came with the shift to twisting handle vines is in play....lots of energy and excitement as I approach the natural next...
