Large Wild Clay Cylinder Vase - A Shifting Cloud They Call Me
A tall, narrow, coil built, stoneware cylindrical vase made out of local, wild clays.
I spent some time in Bega on my way up the coast to Nimbin a few years back, escaping from me. I joined a pottery co-op and used to drive all the way from Bega to to Canberra to buy clay because there was no local supplier. I was introduced to Buddhist nun Otagaki Rengetsu’s sublime pottery, poetry and calligraphy at the Australian National Gallery in Canberra and this is a haiku inscribed into one of her hand built vessels. It speaks to me, as I spent my adult life running in some form or other.
“A floating cloud” people call me,
drifting here and there -
but that is my style,
not wanting to fade away
stuck in one place.
This cloud vessel is made from a mix of Creswick Clay Pit earthenware, Pittong kaolin (to bring it up to stoneware) and Burrumbeet sand (to improve glaze fit and reduce the chance of bloating). I decorated the form with a Pittong kaolin slip and glazed it with one of my spodumene matte glazes. Sand from this region contains volcanic matter and lends a soft speckle to the clay, while spodumene, both a matting agent and a flux, creates beautiful streaking effects.
“He cast light like the sun. The pressure eased from her temples as they wandered the winding paths of the Botanic Gardens. They sat under a grove of oak trees, the branches so old they bowed down and touched the earth. A woman hobbled across the lawn. Bird imagined her wispy, grey hair disbursing in the wind like a dandelion. Sparrows chimed softly and the breeze grazed her cheeks. Sounds and voices ebbed and flowed like waves lapping the shore. A blanket of orange leaves tumbled and sprawled. Her seizing stomach stilled. Their shoulders touched as they told each other stories.
"I've left a few things by the wayside. Things and people." she confided.
"Such as?"
"I can't have anyone that close."
"This close?" he asked, squashing her shoulder with his right arm.
"My world is full, are you gonna freak out?" he wanted to know.
"Full of what?"
"Things. Things and people."
She paused.
"You're not afraid of anything are you?"
He smiled.
“Run away with me" he said, waving a bony, bejewelled hand.
"I'm always running" she answered.”
(Excerpt from my short story Bird)
Approximately 32 cms (h) x 5 cms (w)
A tall, narrow, coil built, stoneware cylindrical vase made out of local, wild clays.
I spent some time in Bega on my way up the coast to Nimbin a few years back, escaping from me. I joined a pottery co-op and used to drive all the way from Bega to to Canberra to buy clay because there was no local supplier. I was introduced to Buddhist nun Otagaki Rengetsu’s sublime pottery, poetry and calligraphy at the Australian National Gallery in Canberra and this is a haiku inscribed into one of her hand built vessels. It speaks to me, as I spent my adult life running in some form or other.
“A floating cloud” people call me,
drifting here and there -
but that is my style,
not wanting to fade away
stuck in one place.
This cloud vessel is made from a mix of Creswick Clay Pit earthenware, Pittong kaolin (to bring it up to stoneware) and Burrumbeet sand (to improve glaze fit and reduce the chance of bloating). I decorated the form with a Pittong kaolin slip and glazed it with one of my spodumene matte glazes. Sand from this region contains volcanic matter and lends a soft speckle to the clay, while spodumene, both a matting agent and a flux, creates beautiful streaking effects.
“He cast light like the sun. The pressure eased from her temples as they wandered the winding paths of the Botanic Gardens. They sat under a grove of oak trees, the branches so old they bowed down and touched the earth. A woman hobbled across the lawn. Bird imagined her wispy, grey hair disbursing in the wind like a dandelion. Sparrows chimed softly and the breeze grazed her cheeks. Sounds and voices ebbed and flowed like waves lapping the shore. A blanket of orange leaves tumbled and sprawled. Her seizing stomach stilled. Their shoulders touched as they told each other stories.
"I've left a few things by the wayside. Things and people." she confided.
"Such as?"
"I can't have anyone that close."
"This close?" he asked, squashing her shoulder with his right arm.
"My world is full, are you gonna freak out?" he wanted to know.
"Full of what?"
"Things. Things and people."
She paused.
"You're not afraid of anything are you?"
He smiled.
“Run away with me" he said, waving a bony, bejewelled hand.
"I'm always running" she answered.”
(Excerpt from my short story Bird)
Approximately 32 cms (h) x 5 cms (w)
A tall, narrow, coil built, stoneware cylindrical vase made out of local, wild clays.
I spent some time in Bega on my way up the coast to Nimbin a few years back, escaping from me. I joined a pottery co-op and used to drive all the way from Bega to to Canberra to buy clay because there was no local supplier. I was introduced to Buddhist nun Otagaki Rengetsu’s sublime pottery, poetry and calligraphy at the Australian National Gallery in Canberra and this is a haiku inscribed into one of her hand built vessels. It speaks to me, as I spent my adult life running in some form or other.
“A floating cloud” people call me,
drifting here and there -
but that is my style,
not wanting to fade away
stuck in one place.
This cloud vessel is made from a mix of Creswick Clay Pit earthenware, Pittong kaolin (to bring it up to stoneware) and Burrumbeet sand (to improve glaze fit and reduce the chance of bloating). I decorated the form with a Pittong kaolin slip and glazed it with one of my spodumene matte glazes. Sand from this region contains volcanic matter and lends a soft speckle to the clay, while spodumene, both a matting agent and a flux, creates beautiful streaking effects.
“He cast light like the sun. The pressure eased from her temples as they wandered the winding paths of the Botanic Gardens. They sat under a grove of oak trees, the branches so old they bowed down and touched the earth. A woman hobbled across the lawn. Bird imagined her wispy, grey hair disbursing in the wind like a dandelion. Sparrows chimed softly and the breeze grazed her cheeks. Sounds and voices ebbed and flowed like waves lapping the shore. A blanket of orange leaves tumbled and sprawled. Her seizing stomach stilled. Their shoulders touched as they told each other stories.
"I've left a few things by the wayside. Things and people." she confided.
"Such as?"
"I can't have anyone that close."
"This close?" he asked, squashing her shoulder with his right arm.
"My world is full, are you gonna freak out?" he wanted to know.
"Full of what?"
"Things. Things and people."
She paused.
"You're not afraid of anything are you?"
He smiled.
“Run away with me" he said, waving a bony, bejewelled hand.
"I'm always running" she answered.”
(Excerpt from my short story Bird)
Approximately 32 cms (h) x 5 cms (w)