There's little to show you this week. I've unpacked the work and have the studio back in showroom mode. It's clean, shiny, and welcoming.
My studio’s re-arranged vanity wall.
Underneath all that shininess, lots of clay prep is happening; clay is out-drying for recycling, then wedged to remove air pockets. By the end of today, I'll have a week's worth of clay for throwing and coiling. Clay has become expensive. When I was in college, it was sixteen cents a pound. It's a dollar twenty now, so I go through this process every few months to keep my prices down. It's some of the unseen labor of working with clay.
At the Lost Province Center for Cultural Arts, the mission is to bridge the urban-rural divide, revitalize our community and promote the cultural arts and skills of the Southern Appalachian region. The preservation of a historic property will provide a spacious venue for classes, special events, sustainable multi‐use housing, a signature farm-to‐table restaurant and a showcase gallery.
In April, I told you I had applied for a residency in the Pacific Northwest. I knew there was a good chance I wouldn't get it, so I started thinking about how I could provide an opportunity like that for myself. Just before my first knee surgery, an acquaintance from Beaufort called and asked if I'd teach a class at the Lost Providence Center for Cultural Arts in Ashe County. We couldn't make it happen then, but we're making it happen this June. On the eighth of next month, I'll spend three weeks in a tiny house on the New River, teaching, working, writing, biking, hiking, kayaking, and tubing. After having all this fun, I'll be broke, so please come by the studio and purchase a lamp, vase, or one of my many beautiful pieces from the Symbols of Home body of work. If you know someone who's remodeling with aesthetics like mine, I would love an introduction.
Thanks, Marina
My home away from home for three weeks. More pictures once I’m there. Maybe.