We have all been cooped up for just about a year now with this pandemic. Not much has changed for me as a self employed potter. My working days are spent alone with my two studio dogs. As an introvert I’m not longing to be with people all day long anyway. This all being said, I do miss people and community! Even introverts need community!

Sometimes a potter needs to change glazes. Even if that particular glaze is a fan favorite. This is the third iteration of the galaxy urns in the 15 years that I’ve been making them.

Springtime is here in western Massachusetts. The buds on the trees are just beginning to open. The sprouts on the ground are coming up, soon the fiddleheads will be ready for harvesting along the river. This spring has a darkness over it though… with the global pandemic, covid19. Such a difficult time for everyone around the world. It is a time of pause, a time of introspection. Everything is on hold. Still spring comes. New life continues.

In these uncertain times I look for hope in the regenerative power of the earth, and I remind myself through my pottery, that I am making something out of a piece of pliable earth. I realize that the earth sustains me in many ways, and that I have a place in this world to bring beauty and hope through my art.

Yes it is all the title says…. sometimes it’s more so than other times. This Blue Galaxy glaze is my most difficult glaze to create. Sometimes it’s blue, sometimes dark blue, other times lighter blue. It’s four layers of glaze, one of the layers is sprayed on, the other layers are dipped.
This also happens to be my most popular urn.

I have made a new line of cremation urns this past summer. They are glazed in a glaze my son Andrew readily named, “Green River”. He was a lifeguard at the time, who looked at that beautiful color for three summers. There are so many shades of green on this beautiful earth. So many names I could have given this urn, but to me the perfect name for it is “Tranquil Waters”.

Ever wonder how those little Soul Circle Stones are made?

They start with the tiniest bit of clay, the size of a golf ball. I place it on the potters wheel, center the clay, and proceed to make a little hollow ring. Take a look at the photos to see the progression.

This past January my 36 year old niece lost her year long battle with cancer. Christina loved everything butterfly. So I asked her husband and my brother if they would like me to make a biodegradable urn for her that would have butterflies, and be reminiscent of the grasses of the field.

Each urn takes about 40 minutes to carve the leaves... the perfect time to listen to podcasts or to sit outside on a warm sunny porch. (The latter isn’t happening anytime soon.) Over the weekend I carved three urns while watching the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. A big smile came to my face when I saw the huge moon jar holding the Olympic flame! 

Sitting with the sun deliciously at my back all day while throwing large urns, I caught a glimpse of sunlight on my red rubber rib tool. 
Sometimes magic happens.
Is it me, or some creative force beyond my realm of comprehension. It's like the red rib touched the pot like a wand... and poof... the pot became.

I didn't get my hands in clay until noon today. I was busy with paper work then packing and shipping urns from website orders. Once I got into the studio I made lids for the small size urns that I made yesterday. Tomorrow I will trim these lids and make sure they fit proportionately to the body of the urns.