Snow Day

My mom arrived from Miami yesterday. Today the forecast called for a snownado...whatever that is. Supposed to get wicked winds and scary deep snow tonight. Less than a decade ago, this wouldn't have even rated a "BIG" snowstorm rating. I think with all the media over-exposure, we are simply expecting more and more drama from our weather. Can't we just have normalcy? I sometimes wonder if we have lost the ability to understand when hyperbole has lost its meaning.

While the snow outside fell steadily, we stayed inside and kept warm. Nice way to pass the day. By the time we had reached mid-afternoon everyone was ready for a nap which gave me a chance to set up lights. Got a few dozen images off before everyone awoke. Then it was laughing and cavorting of the first degree.

Staring Down Sunday Night

Nancy has been working on repurposing/reconstructing/recycling sweaters by felting them and turning them into other garments. This week it was berets. The knitted scarf and hat was last hockey season's efforts... which were accompanied by legwarmers too!






Aurora was kind enough to hold still a while to let me play around a little with flash last night and tonight. I need more time with my flashes to really gain more confidence. Time time time.

Accumulating Ice

Days saturated with clear light
give way to the crushing chill, one drop at a time.
Looking through frozen fangs,
everything outside pales compared to the warmth inside the maw.
As the ice builds, one drop at a time,
I worry more.

How long can the gutters shoulder this growing burden?

Someone mentioned ice dams.
I am from Florida where ice is served in glasses.
Here, I know it grows; as fast as the grass in summer.
They dont have an ice-lawnmower though.
I asked at the hardware store.

So the ice continues to accumulate.

Looking at things more closely

Earlier today, fellow potter and blogger, Jim Gottuso commented on yesterday's blog posting. It really struck a chord in me. First off, I can safely say I agree with most of Jim's assertions. My divorce was probably one of the best things that happened in my life. Mostly because it meant that a year and a half later, I would meet Nancy and she would ask me to be her husband (single-handedly one of the BEST things ever in my life!). But that cannot take away from the pain and disillusionment that I went through during the divorce. At this point, both Nancy and I stand and stare at that point in our lives when we met... for her it was also a climax time with everything crashing down around her.... and when we look back, there is no longing to go back. There is grief though. Healthy grief. Knowing that something died and that you have to keep going forward.

Jim's other comment dealt with how a professor can have such a strong (potentially negative) impact on a student.... hit the nail on the head. When I applied to grad school my hope was to see my work transition to wood and salt firing. I chose this particular program because of the strength of the professor in these areas, as well as his expertise as a tool maker. I never asked about his pedagogy or his ideology. It simply never even entered into my mind. In retrospect, I assumed he would be just like my previous professors... wonderful, open-minded, creative, helpful, kind, opinionated but wise....the list goes on.

It seems so obvious now, but the professors I had known earlier were simply awesome. No two ways about it. Frank Ozereko still stands out in my mind as one of the best professors I have ever had the pleasure to meet. Every superlative could be applied to him and it would still miss the measure of the man. Prior to taking my first independent study with him, my opinion was that he would have nothing to teach me since his clay work was predominantly sculptural and low-temp at that. I figured being a stoneware and porcelain thrower we would have nothing to talk about. Funny how first assumptions can really cloud your vision. During our first critique I anticipated being talked down to by a sculptor.... and instead I found his insight to be right on the money. After class, I walked back to the bus feeling transparent. I knew that he had seen things in my pots only I knew about. Suddenly we had LOTS to talk about.

Jim's final note that the prof that he had difficulties with now raises sheep made me laugh. My first workstudy job when I was an undergrad was tending sheep on our school farm. Imagine a boy from Miami writing home about taking care of 60 head of sheep at 7am and 3pm every day. I don't think that was what my dad had in mind when he sent me off to school.

Jim's suggestion that writing my thesis in verse would have been harder than simply writing it in standard art-speak essay style is kind of ironic. Poetry was my first way of striking out at adversity. I wrote prolifically until graduate school. Never saw anything significant published, but had a few poems read at book fairs and the like. So, in honor of Jim's suggestion, I am going to slowly add more images of this body of work to the blog (as time allows) and as I dig further into the vault of images, if I can drum up some of the ideas that spurred the original poems, I'll try to get them down into the blog. Here's hoping I can tap that well-spring.

Thank you Jim for commenting and spurring me along. Much appreciated!

Textures that take me back

Something is so flesh-like about those tiny fragile pink blisters.
Up against the chalky whiteness...

When I first shot this platter in grad school at Utah State, the slides turned out with the gold crystals
looking very soft and pastel. It was only when I shot this here, under sunlight
with a Nikkor Micro/Macro lens that I was finally able to capture the image as I saw it.

Tonight my melancholic state has me looking over my old platters for inspiration. To go from being on the top of my game to the bottom of the bucket in the span of hours really spilled the wind from my sails. When the last platter was hung on the wall, my excitement was at its peak. A day later, I could have taken a hammer to every platter in the show. Somehow I didn't.

It was a wonderful show, don't get me wrong. We had a wonderful audience in attendance. Lots of great questions, comments etc. A week later, when I had my oral exams with my professors, the big question was "what next?" If they had asked me that before the show, I would have had great ambitious answers full of excitement and vigor. That day though, I was cornered. The glass around me was shattered and everything I had thought was coming now seemed laughable.

I seldom talk about my divorce mostly because after the last decade, it seems talked-out. Everytime I crack out images of these platters though, it all comes rushing back. I had such dreams! I was sure these platters would lift me far and away. Ironic considering these puppies are heavy as can be!

Initially I wrote my thesis in verse. My professor felt that this was completely inappropriate. For an MFA? Really? Who the hell else is going to be writing their thesis in verse if not an MFA candidate?? I wish I had kept some of those early drafts. Trying to write about the feelings of materials meeting, melting, moving from one state to the next. I remember one comment of his was that glazes didn't have feelings. I think that hurt me more than the beginnings of my divorce.

I don't know if I have it in me to go another round with this body of work. I would love to think so. I dream sometimes of taking them out for a grand exhibition. I fantasize about us having a monstrous kiln where we could fire new works; HUGE and fabulous! And then I remember taking these platters on the road to shows in Colorado, Utah and Washington State. Suffice to say, I was in great shape that summer after having lifted tons of platters all day every day.

At the end of the day, none sold. That's failure. Pure and simple.

Playing with Portraits and Slideshow Ideas

Catching Up

It's been over a week since I have had time to post anything on this blog. I wish I could say I have been busy making pots. Nope. I wish I had been busy making images... but nope, I wasn't. I can't even really figure out where this week went.

I spent a lot of time waiting. I know that much. Waiting for shipments to arrive. Waiting on deliveries. Waiting for doctors. Waiting for the snow to fall. In the end, there was time spent on my derriere that could have been put to better use. At some point in all this waiting, I started rooting through the images on my cell phone. Nothing amazing really... especially considering the hideous quality... but interesting nonetheless.

This was shot right immediately as a huge storm went past (summertime).

Shot tonight, from the parking lot at the hockey rink in Lansing.

Nancy and I, at Taughannock back at the beginning of Summer 2009.

Living it up at Five Guys.

More shots from Seneca Lake

Looking north from the fallow fields above Seneca Lake.
Cold Springs Studio Photography ©2010

Westward, through the lonely line of trees, across the lake...
Cold Springs Studio Photography ©2010

Here's the thing.... if I could get my butt out of bed earlier in the morning, these pictures would be Sunrises Over Cayuga. Instead, I am much more likely to be willing to go out shooting sometime before dinner instead... that means looking westward, and that takes us out to Seneca Lake.

Still Cold

It is still wicked cold as night falls, but I am trying to get myself out there at least every other night. Sure is hard when your hands feel like clubs after 10 minutes of exposure. I need to find something to keep these digits warm. Suggestions? Mittens are not working because I need to be able to use the dials and buttons on the camera. Ideas?

Shooting One More Round For January

Mary Ellen Salmon ©2010 Cold Springs Studio Photography

Mary Ellen Salmon ©2010 Cold Springs Studio Photography

Salmon Gallery ©2010 Cold Springs Studio Photography

Julie Crosby ©2010 Cold Springs Studio Photography

I have spent more time in January making images of pots than I have spent actually MAKING pots. This is a first! It has been a blast too. Something about getting to see other styles of forming has been very informative. I love handling other potters' pots and this new process makes it that much easier! Before I get setup, I try to look at what sort of images they've had made in the past, or what their current website looks like. I compare that to what I think the forms could look like if shot differently. It's always a tough process but it becomes even tougher when you find other photographers who are making really great images.

Sometimes, it really can be too cold outside

We took a trip over to Seneca Lake today. Figured we would catch the sun as it set across the lake. I didn't really take into account that the temperature was in the single digits (with a wind chill somewhere around -17F). Heck, I didn't even remember to bring a hat.

What originally was planned to be a nice long stay by the water, watching the sun melt into the lake, ended up being a VERY fast photoshoot. Too darned cold even for my furry-self.

Another Happy Camper... well, potter really

But you get the idea.

These pots are from Jan Brown. A local Ithaca potter of over 30 years, Jan was the first potter to convince me that cone 6 held great potential. Ten years later and I wouldn't think of firing anything but cone 6... all because of what I saw in Jan's pots over the years.

David Kingsbury and Turtle Island Pottery

I finally had time today to put together a quick slideshow of David Kingsbury's pottery.

Learning By Shooting

Sometimes, all the theory in the world wont help you. Read all you want. Absorb every idea and suggestion. But when photons start flying and shutters go click, well... that's when you find out if you understood any of it.

Today was an eye opener.

I have been reading about lighting theory every night now for about a month. Everything from portrait lighting, minimalist lighting (using handheld off-camera flashes), strobe lighting, natural lighting and even just books on the theory of how light moves. All hoping for some grand insight into how to get the effect I want.

Here are today's results.

David Kingsbury's vase, copyright Cold Springs Studio Photography ©2010

This was shot with my usual, overhead lightbox, loaded with three daylight balanced compact fluorescent bulbs. One white card on the right side and a reflective card on the left. Simple, standard and pretty reliable.

David Kingsbury's vase, copyright Cold Springs Studio Photography ©2010

This was shot with one handheld Nikon SD-600, with a homemade snoot and held above and over the axis of the camera. Damn. I guess now the question is how do I keep that beautiful subtle background when I want it? How do I get a softer fall off in the shadow at the foot of the vase?

Update

The new Photography website is live and seems to be "bug-free"... so if you find anything amiss, please let me know!

Preview of things to come

Cold Springs Studio's new photography page.

Over the past few months as my recovery has progressed, I have had more than ample time for navel gazing. (funny thing: I currently have what looks like three navels... thanks to some of the holes that were drilled into my abdomen to remove the sutures a month ago.)

Upon reflection here is what I have found:

• Even if my recovery continues with no major setbacks, I will never regain the abdominal strength I used to have.
• Lifting things like boxes of clay or kiln shelves can cause herniation at the ostomy site.
• Herniation looks to be the bugbear under the bed for ostomates.
• The only tried-and-true solution to avoid herniation looks to be having a reversal surgery.
• That means at least two more major surgeries.

Given this scenario, my assumption that I can simply slide back into my life as a potter is simply erroneous. Sure, I can make pots, and in fact, I am trying to make pots everyday. But what used to be my warm-up time is now my total time in the mud for the day. Stamina apparently takes a long time to come back.

I have relied on my self-sufficiency, like all potters, for most of my life. My life has been built around the premise that brute force could surmount adversity. That simply isn't an option at this point. I can't just wrangle kiln shelves into the bottom of my kiln without injuring my ostomy site, never mind the potential for actually blowing a hernia through there as well. I can't lift glaze buckets the way I used to. Even simple things like moving a board full of pots and batts is out of the question. Too much abdominal muscle engagement.

So what to do ? :

• I may consider trying to bring on another apprentice when Hannah heads down to NC in a few months. Someone with the proverbial strong back/weak mind. I just have seen so little interest or discipline in this area. I'll keep my fingers crossed.
• Renovate/redo the studio so heavy things don't have to be moved for daily work.
• Find other aspects of my interests to pursue.

The last one there is the rub.

I have always had many interests that would qualify more as a profession and less as a hobby. I don't really know how to do the hobby thing. If I am interested in something, I dive in with both feet. In the past decade, this has been a rediscovery of my love for photography. After seeing the dearth of good photographers in the central NY area, I am encouraged. Maybe there's room for another aspiring photog. Then again, that was my feeling about setting up a pottery studio. If I have learned nothing else in the last decade, if you don't make work that fits within the stylistic needs/wants of your local clientèle, then you are forced to either ship work out or search high and low for ways to draw new customers in from far away. Neither is simple.

Which leaves me with massive questions about pursuing photography as a potentiality. Much in the same way that most of what I learned in grad school was learned AFTER leaving. There was so much that couldn't be taught in the classroom. That makes me wonder how do I begin the dive into photography so I don't make all the same mistakes and gaffes I made establishing my pottery studio? Ideas? Suggestions?

If anyone wants to check out my beginner's attempt at setting out my shingle, so to speak... check out our new website: Cold Springs Studio Photograhy

Ideas, critiques, etc., are always appreciated.

Three generations of Sollas

Three months ago, I woke up from a month-long chemically induced coma. During the time I was out, my mother came up from Florida twice. I can't imagine being in her shoes... the parent watching their offspring tied to a gurney so as to not pull out all the various tubes and hoses and wires keeping me alive.

My mother spent Christmas afternoon and evening in a panic, waiting for my sister to fly in from England. Only problem was that she was held up in Detroit because of the Holiday Terrorist. Apparently the plane that arrived just before hers made it so that they had to wait on the tarmac for over three hours. Luckily, they eventually released the planes and passengers and Mag made her way to Florida.

As sort of a post-Christmas gift surprise, my mom and sister came up to visit before New Year's. I don't think there has ever been a time when my house has ever held three generations of Solla women. Listening to Aurora cackling like a turkey, totally bowled over laughing, I realized that she, my mother and my sister all have the same laugh. And here it was; all this laughter in my house.

My mother and sister hadn't seen me walk out of the hospital. They hadn't been there when I made any of my "firsts" in PT. More than anything else, they just wanted to see that I was alive, intact and functional. Nevermind that I had already told them this via phone, email and through the blog. They needed to see it.

I am starting to understand now.

Today, I can say with a smile of pride (as though I had something to do with it... not really)...
that all of the horrendous holes that the surgeon drilled into me before Christmas are finally HEALED! I have no more holes in my abdomen!!! Nancy and I celebrated last night by NOT doing a wound change before bedtime. This means so much to me. Most of all, it means I can have my normal routine again. Showering first thing in the morning has always been my way of waking up... since I was a pre-teen. Now I can not only do that, I can manage the post-wound care needs on my own. And best of all... it doesn't hurt.

So what does all of this mean? It means I can begin to work out harder at the gym at PT. It means I can stretch out my walks farther each day. It means that when the winter passes I can start getting out on my bike again. It means I lived.

Time in the Studio

More than half a dozen times today, I walked through the snow to get to the studio. Two months ago I still hadn't even ventured out to the studio yet. Each time I came and went from the studio, I felt stronger and more at peace today. The rhythm is starting to begin again.

Potters understand this... we make pots not because we suddenly feel an urge, but because that is what you do. Everyday there is something in the studio that demands your attention. It might be something as simple as cleaning boards and batts, or mopping the floor. It might be a day of trimming and decorating. Some days those days stretch out into nights.

Tonight was the first night in four months I had to go back out to the studio after dinner to deal with pots I had thrown earlier in the day. I still can't throw with the same stamina I had before surgery... but I CAN throw. Sure, it is uncomfortable and awkward, but each teabowl that has passed through my hands these past few days, has felt magical.

One of my best friends is putting together a fund raiser for my family. Having always been on the giving side of a fund raiser, this is a new feeling. I am uncertain how to react. At this point, all I know is that it makes me cry. Knowing that people out there care about my family's well being and want to ensure that they are okay... that just wracks me. So when Mary Ellen Salmon offered to organize this fund raiser to be held at the Rongovian Embassy here in Trumansburg, I was (and am) shocked. So far Mary Ellen has had contributions from many of the artists who are represented in her gallery or from the Ithaca Art Trail. My hope is to be able to donate a few pots to the auction. The first pots of a new year, of a new life.

Happiness is:

Happiness is when you receive a phone call to say that the candidate you had just a day earlier given a telephone referral about, had been hired.

Happiness is knowing that landing this job opens doors.

Happiness is that back of the head smile and glow, knowing I had a little something to do with it.

Congratulations Dana! Now go out there and kick some library butt!

Doing More Each Day

For the past few days, my time in the studio has been growing steadily. Not always necessarily in mud up to my elbows... but there's always something needing doing. The last of the orders from 2009 have finally shipped. We are halfway to loading up the first big bisque firing of the year.

I think what is most exciting so far this year is the realization that we are participating in more exhibitions than we usually find ourselves in. I am sure part of the reason is my desire to move away from craft shows which has freed up time (in my mind, if not in reality) to make better pots (and hopefully save more of them this year!). The show that I am very excited about is Clay and Blogs: Telling a Story. This comes at an interesting time in my life. Between nearly dying in surgery, living through a coma and rehabilitation and now finally trying to get back into the studio, there has been a lot of grist for the blog mill. For more info on this upcoming show, please check out Meredith Heywood's site. And Meredith, THANK YOU... for pulling together all these potter/bloggers and being willing to organize this show. Kudos!

Clay and Blogs: Telling a Story.
Opening reception will be held at the Campbell House in Moore county from 6-8 pm
October 1st, 2010
Exhibition comes down on November 1st, 2010


On top of all of that, a wonderful local potter, Renata Wadsworth asked me to shoot images for her. Mind you, she asked back in December. At that point, I could only stand up for about 40 minutes at a time. January has always been my set-aside time for shooting new work. This time of year, everyone wants to get new images ready to send out for show applications and website revisions. Renata's aesthetic draws on the Japanese tradition of Shino glazing and brushwork decoration. The accent colors of copper red and Oribe green bring out the richness in her pots. You can find more images on her webpage and on the Ithaca Art Trail website. What follows are a few examples of her best work for the new year.