This week was epic and exciting beyond words: the wood firing happened!

After another busy work weekend, I kicked off the school week by finishing my second Penland scholarship application. Essay writing is so hard for me, and Penland scholarships are highly competitive, but I’m proud of myself for pushing through and getting application practice. It sucked putting all those hours this week and last into staring at my computer rather than adding coils to a sculpture, though, and I am ITCHING to get back to making. I am still in a creative rut, but I began reading Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland and gained a lot of insight on my identity as an artist. I have faith that this time of reflection is valuable for my future making.

We began loading the wood kiln on Tuesday, spearheaded by GH. I learned a lot about IUS’s wood kiln and the flame path/stack methodology from him, and had fun playing around with tumble stacking some of my cups on my giant sculpture. More on that to come…

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We lit off the kiln at 4am on Thursday morning, and I was part of the kindling crew. We had to start early because the Louisville Orchestra was performing Friday night and we needed to ensure that the kiln was shut off before that evening so that smoke wouldn’t get sucked through the theater vents and cause a fire panic.

After pulling an all nighter, I slept all day Thursday and returned for a very fun overnight shift with Sarah. Kelsey accompanied us, and GH joined in around 2am. We learned a ton about stoking and controlling the kiln and successfully kept it lit and climbing.

Around 12am during this shift, I went in the studio to grab something and noticed that one of my sculpture halves had beheaded itself. I’d stupidly tried to keep the forms damp by wrapping wet paper towels around them and tightly covering them, since I knew I wouldn’t be able to work on them for a week because of the wood firing and being out of town this weekend. Rehydrating the middle of one of the sculptures caused it to collapse over, no longer able to support the weight of the top. So I reclaimed the top 2/3, added a new coil, and rewrapped it. I’ll rebuild it next week. I’m a little bummed, but I wasn’t too connected to this form and am taking it as a learning experience— I should’ve built better supports in the first place, especially since I wasn’t even done building the form.

My making hasn’t been very focused the past couple weeks, and the clay is showing it. I am hopeful that the results of the wood firing are favorable. I might be banking on it a little too much, but all my proudest work from the semester so far is in there. Either way, the experience of this firing has been irreplaceable and I will cherish it forever. I have so much love for this medium and the sense of community it has brought me. I’m grateful beyond words for the friendships I’ve made in the studio, the genuine care that my studio mates have for one another and our shared passion for clay. I feel so privileged to be a part of this program.

Mushiness aside, remember the aforementioned tumble-stacked cups on my big sculpture? I’d been sneaking glances during stokes throughout the overnight shift to check that they hadn’t fallen, and around a soft cone 10 in the front, I noticed that the front cup was no longer on my sculpture… GH confirmed this suspicion, and then took a peak in the coal bed and was able to locate the cup in question. With his crazy skills, GH successfully pulled out my molten cup from the fire box with a rod. Unbelievably, it survived in one piece, and I was able to raku-fire and cool it. I am blown away by this series of events. This truly is the most magical thing I’ve witnessed with this medium. Though it’s not food safe by any means, this cup is an awesome emblem from this firing, and the aesthetic and feel really fits the form.