Making has been a little slower than usual this month. Instead we have been tackling some of the trickier, complex and daunting aspects of our studio. Planning our making, setting targets, completing the GPSR paperwork mountain and being able to resume shipping to the EU, dealing with finances and tax ‘stuff’. The relationship between money and creative satisfaction should not, I feel, be too interwoven, but of course in reality it is unless you are of the fortunate few who can work in a creative field without the need to also make a living.

Romantic, painterly brushwork;
a quiet, unassuming jar (for holding outrageously decadent chocolates?);
A drink set for a peaceful ritual;
and
Our new dinner bowls……

Whilst the radiator ‘purrs’ all day in Updike’s poem about January, in our studio it is all about the kilns. They have been ‘clicking’ and ‘groaning’ away all month long, the electricity meter clocking up the kilowatts at pace. Our lofty workspace is tricky to heat in a cosy way and so our two top loaders have become the focal point. They have gained the office photocopier status as a place beside which to have discussions, sip coffee near, for our dog Nella to sleep beneath (!). Also a perfect place to dry soggy running trainers and endless amounts of reclaim and saturated plaster bats. Perhaps our productivity has been so high this month because taking a break from throwing and trimming means a break from warmth.

Whilst generally the first half of December leaves little time to think and is just a mad rush to get everything done, those jumbled in between days between Christmas and new year, sometimes leave a little too much time to think and can leave you in a confusing state of overwhelm. So many ideas and intentions yet very little energy. Matt and I are getting started on a sizeable tableware commission (thankyou pottery gods, all potters love a post Christmas commission!) and so these days are spent dividing family festivities with making, mornings at the wheel, afternoons building den forts out of cardboard. For me though this is the best time to think, alone in the studio with my thoughts, busy hands, I don’t get so overwhelmed because I am being productive. 

November has been a month of slightly unhinged making, of playing shopkeepers in our workshop and celebrating the fact that our studio now has some form of heating.

Throughout November and December we are opening our workshop doors to the public, which feels at once terrifying and exciting. I love having guests in the studio, especially when we’ve had time to tidy up and make everything look beautiful. Think beautiful pots, homewares, lots of greenery and perhaps a glass or two of something mulled.