Jeanette Manchester Harris

And now for something completely different......

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 15:04:00 +0000

Here's a fruitcake your friends won't "re-gift" or use as a doorstop.

Every year I bake it for my children's families and ourselves. It's not the kind you make in October and keep pouring the Napoleon brandy into every so often, although you can do this if you want.

It all started because I can't eat the multi-colored citron you find in stores at this time of year. They are all preserved with sulfur dioxide. I'm allergic to that. It gives me migraine.

A few years ago, I discovered non-sulfide mango spears. I had experimented with substituting dates, prunes and nuts, apples. They were all good, but not quite the texture I was looking for. So, one year I put in the chopped mango and Voila! --perfect fruitcake.

So here it is.

I don't give this recipe to just anyone, mind.

Dark Fruitcake

3 c. raisins

6 oz. orange juice concentrate, undiluted

1/2 c. molasses

1/2 c. sugar

1 link (1/2 c.) butter

3 eggs

1 1/4c. flour

1/4 t. soda

1/2 c. chopped walnuts

1 teaspoon each of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, mace, coriander, ginger and allspice

1 c. diced, dried papaya

In a saucepan, combine orange juice, molasses and raisins and heat until bubbly. Simmer 5 minutes and cool.

In a bowl or mixer, cream butter and sugar. Add eggs.

In another large bowl, sift dry ingredients. Add butter, egg, sugar mix and blend. Add nuts and then citron/molasses/orange juice mix. Blend all well and pour into:

2 loaf pans, greased and floured, or one large tube pan.

Place in the lowest shelf of the oven and bake at 275 degrees until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. --About 1 hr. for tube pan, 45 minutes for the loaf pans.

Cool and put in air-tight container (add brandy if you choose after 1 day) or wrap in plastic wrap until ready to eat.

It smells heavenly while baking; is better after one day (if you can wait that long!)

My Gift to You! Merry Christmas

The Gilded Bowl

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 15:18:00 +0000

Is it utilitarian? Does it matter?

I suppose you could put fruit inside. Or pine cones. Or pot puree.

But why would you?

It's just nice the way it is.

So why do some artists feel they must justify what they make?

Big question. It comes up some times at shows. I must admit, I usually give the questioner a quizzical look because I just don't think that way. If something is nice, beautiful, pleasing, that's enough excuse to exist.

This large bowl is made of terra cotta. The gilding inside is fake gold. I did a workshop demonstrating the gilding technique and the bowl has been hanging around for several years. I'm giving it the time-test, I suppose. I thought it would fade with age and be a transient thing. It hasn't.

I never tire of looking at it; the contrast between the earthy, semi-rough exterior with the glory of the interior.

Think I can do another one. Now.

Late-Breaking News

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 16:04:00 +0000

Don't you just love it when the same old newscast comes on as LATE-BREAKING NEWS!!!

AGAIN?

heh

I got a message last week that my little terra-cotta teapot photo will be included in the PR postcard for the Texas Teapot Tournament in Houston, Jan. 2010.

Yeah!

White Bowl

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 15:36:00 +0000

I just finished photographing a bowl called "Contemplation".

It's a medium-sized bowl, 9 inches in diameter, 4 1/4 inches tall and trimmed so there is a little 'well' in the bottom of the foot. Inside the well are three perfect spheres. You can imagine them rolling around and around.

The design is my interpretation of what I do when I concentrate.

I try to open my mind up and make it totally blank, totally open to allow whatever I'm seeking to flow in.

Agnes Martin, a painter, said, "I paint with my back to the world." In other words, blocking out all of the press of the every-day.

In order for inspiration to come, there must be a completely open, blank space for it to come into.

Writers talk about "A book writing itself. Or the characters taking the story and going with it."

I'm fascinated by what goes on when an artist is in this suspended space; this bubble where the mind, eye, hand and process dominate above all other things. A kind of meditation with action. A state of being and doing. A convergence of the You of you with another power.

There are times when I feel like a pot makes itself while I just hold it.

Makes my head spin with wonder.

Clay "Riffs"

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 16:55:00 +0000

A "Riff" is a musician's variation or interpretation of a phrase or composition of music. Exploring. Expanding. Making musical expansions or comments.

A "Riff" to a comedian is taking an idea and pushing it until it spins off into something hilarious.

Steven Wright: "The other day I got my house key and car key confused; put the car key in the house lock. It started right up.

So I jumped in and drove it around the block. A cop tried to get me to pull over.

I put my head out the window and yelled: "Get outta my yard!"

That's really riffing.

"Riffing Clay" is doing the very same thing.

Well, it may not be Exactly hilarious, but you know what I mean.

I like to take a basic form and push it. Not only does it bring a new form idea into being, it gives new life to it.

Here's a basic rectangular slab-rolled baking dish that was oooched into a flowing form. (I'm sure oooched is a verb.)

Granted, I did not start with a square base--more of an old TV screen shape; oblong with rounded corners. I measured the circumference of the base with a piece of string, then cut out the side from one very long piece of slabbed clay. (only one join) I attach walls with vinegar water, slathered on with a brush, and compressed the wall base into the floor. This must be done with a very light, form-encouraging touch. Otherwise, the wall will be weakened and not stand up well.

I secure the inside wall at the base by using a clay worm, compress and round and smooth the inside join. Then I manipulate the walls. I might form a slight outward bulge at the bottom; a slight outward flare at the upper rim.

A turntable is a good thing to have here. You can work on the walls and easily check how the whole form looks as you manipulate it. I sometimes add clay to create an interest area. Whatever 'feels' like it's working. Depending on how the clay is acting, I either work while it is soft, or wait until it firms up before 'riffing' it. Every piece is different. It is very important for a potter to cultivate a light, clay-sympathetic touch that builds strength into the clay, and not weaken or overwork it.

*Note: Riffed pieces are sometimes really difficult to photograph.

Watch and feel the piece until it has begun to dance to your eye. Knowing when to stop is also very important.

Pie

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 14:54:00 +0000

Every year at this time when I make the pies for Thanksgiving, I have this thing I wonder about.

My mother always cut the top pie crust in a design that looked like either a Fleur de Lis or Prince of Wales feathers. For years, I thought everyone made their pies this way. Then I began to notice that none of my friend's mothers put distinctive designs on their pies.

I asked her once and she said that that's just the way the pies were cut. Her mother did the same design.

So, was it a Loyalist symbol? I know people who supported the Crown in England quietly signaled to others their political sympathies in subtle ways like this. Is the design the three Prince of Wales feathers? If so, who did this? Maybe it was from the Scottish side of the family in support of Bonny Prince Charles.

Or is it a symbol of the French Fleur de Lis? My mother's grandmother was named de Bord. Was she showing her French heritage? Maybe she was from a Huguenot family??

If you compare the Fleur de Lis and the Prince of Wales feathers, they are very similar.

Our genealogy traces her famly to the Sanford family and back all the way back to the Plantagenets. Their symbol came from a plant known as common broom. It grew wild and the founder of the French branch of the family liked to wear a sprig of the plant in his hat.

Could the family have held onto this design for generations?

A sprig of the broom plant that the name Plantagenet refers to.

Happy Thanksgiving

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 17:00:00 +0000

These are blueberry leaves.

For a brief time, they turn this glorious color; each leaf a variation of red/yellow/green depending on where it is on the branch, how much sun it gets and where the shadow of other leaves fall across it.

There is just no match with Nature.

Every year it's a wonder. Sometimes I pick them and put them into an old bookbinding press between sheets of blank newsprint. They keep most of their color.

This year, though, I just picked and handful of the prettiest ones and laid them out on the kitchen table.

Think I'll use this in our Christmas letter.

Spontaneity

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 04:44:00 +0000

Spontaneity. Easy. Just let yourself go.

Oh, yeah?

Sometimes it just isn't that easy.

Sometimes you can work a piece to death.

But when you find that capacity for spontaneity, when you pull it off, when you breathe life into your work,

it's like dancing.

It only works once.

It can't be undone.

It can't be 'corrected'.

This little stoneware trivet was wheel-thrown upside down with a rounded concave base which was altered when leather the piece was hard. I trimmed away the rounded base to create four feet.

It was glazed with white glaze and a thick cobalt stain applied with a large Japanese calligraphy brush.

Fired at oxidation, cone 6. The cobalt sizzled and jumped making small dots. A surprise when I unloaded it, but looks great.

Kung Fu

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 16:32:00 +0000

I don't know why, but for some reason I find this photo hilarious.

And not that I haven't taken the hammer to a few things in my time. When I tell people who are not potters about this, they take a fast in-breath and say "Why?".

For one thing, I want my work to reflect the best level of skill I can.

My thought process was that if I sold seconds or flawed pieces I would be mortified to find them again. And it would be easily be identifiable as my work, since I always sign things. But I must say, I used to be more strict early in my work, (There was so much to trash). As time has gone by, I'm not quite so rigid about flaws. I came to this conclusion after seeing shows and visiting museums and finding that even the giants in the field show work that is not perfect.

Some 'flawed' pieces, I actually find to be quite endearing. I have a wobbly rimmed seconds bowl from one of my potter friends that somehow delights me every time I use it.

As long as a flaw doesn't jeopardize the integrity of the pot or the safety of the user, I let it survive now.

For one thing, it is a testament to the fact that the work was handmade and not belched out by some machine. For another thing, it's the realization that perfection is an ideal some of us strive for, but seldom attain. Sorta like people.

Tiny Teapot

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 23:55:00 +0000

Once in a while, it's good to change your work and challenge yourself to make something completely different.

I've just finished photographing this little piece for entry into a teapot show.

It's made in the style of Yixing teapots. The clay is unglazed, only stamped and burnished. All of it is either slab or handmade.

The teapot is just a bit larger than the photos.

"Cadogan" Style Salt and Peppers

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 20:40:00 +0000

The Codugan teapot design using the inverted inside funnel is also used to make salt and peppers in clay.

I've made dozens of these and sold them at shows. They are real good sellers and are a great way to start a dialogue with customers.

People will pick them up, see that they are salt and peppers, but are puzzled. "Where's the holes?" they will ask.

Sometimes I tell them they're for people on limited salt diets. But then, I show them how they work and they love it.

I usually make them in the shape of pears, since the form lends itself so well to this form, but I've also made them in many different designs.

Here's a salt made by Illinois potter, Paul DreSang.

I attended a workshop and demo about his famous tromp l'oeil leather bags. (See below.)

Beside the 'leather' bags, Paul also makes salt-fired wheel thrown work. He made some pieces available for purchase at the workshop and I bought two pieces which I use nearly every day.

Pictured is a DreSang piece that looks like a rather unique teapot sitting inside a very convincingly-made collapsed black leather bag.

The zipper and metal buckles look real, but they are also made of clay.

The piece is quite large and is part of the Smithsonian's Renwick Gallery in Washington D. C. It is in the permanent collection and is on display occasionally.

Cadogan Teapots

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 13:21:00 +0000

The story goes that Lord Cadogan, 1675-1726, fell in love with these little Chinese wine pots and imported them into England to serve tea. The story may or may not be true--some say it was Lady Cadogan who brought them to England. But that's not really here or there except to explain the name.

At any rate, these little pots, which only hold about a cup, were then adapted and manufactured in the English potteries.

Many Victorian examples were larger, brown and with the figure of a squirrel on top.

As you can see, there is no lid. Yet it pours out liquid.

How can that be? The secret of how they work can be seen in this modern glass one.

Inside, an inverted funnel shape is the key. The wide part of the funnel is part of the base; the small opening is at the top.

To fill, turn the pot over (be sure to stop the end of the spout with your finger) and fill with liquid. Turn it right side up again by gently laying it on it's side and inverting. (The side-turn keeps the hole at the top of the funnel clear, although a few drops may escape.)

The liquid that was poured into the top when the vessel is inverted will pool into the bottom of the pot. The liquid cannot rise higher than the top of the funnel-opening. The pot can be filled as high as the inside funnel and up part of the spout. The bottom of the spout is located rather low on the pot for this reason.

For the potter, they are easier to make than you would think. The trick is to make the inner funnel first, then pull the outer walls of the form up around it, leaving the inner cavity fat at the bottom and closing the vessel in at the top. The spout is attached just the same as with a regular teapot, but you must smooth the inner seam without being able to see it.

Here's one I made and (hopefully) it will be accepted into a show coming up.

Those Victorians

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 00:49:00 +0000

I have a wonderful book on Wedgewood. I bought it in the UK years ago. It shows many unusual clay things made during the history of the company.

Like and egg-shaped bell pull.

Now I ask you.

Or how about a Georgian Period egg beater?

A Water Color Set?

(Probably best used by decorative ladies in the parlor.)

But this one.

This one just kills me. It's a tilt teapot.

It is meant to sit two different ways.

See the separate compartment at the top of the pot? It has tiny holes in the bottom or floor of the compartment.

This is where the loose tea leaves go.

Then, the pot is filled with hot water and tilted backward toward the handle. What you cannot see are additional feet at the back. They are designed as a separate set of legs to hold the pot when it is tilted backward. The hot water flows into the top/back compartment through the strainer holes and over the tea leaves.

When the tea has steeped and ready to pour, the pot would be set upright again as shown, the water would flow away from the tea leaf section into the body of the pot.

You would certainly have to hold onto that lid.

Seems like an awful lot of trouble for what appears to be maybe one or two cups of tea.

A Most Unique Pot

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 00:08:00 +0000

While surfing the web for spout examples, I ran across these pots. And pots they truly are!

These are "Coach Pots" or "Bourdaloues".

They are also sometimes called "Banquet","Crinoline", "Ball" or "Sermon Pots".

They originated in France during the reign of Louis XIV.

It seems the court priest, Louis Bourdaloues was known for his hours-long sermons.

And of course, everyone who was in court was expected to attend his services.

The ladies, arrayed in elaborate dresses and petticoats, could not exit to use the facilities without causing a noticeable disturbance, so the use of these little porcelain pots came into use.

Thank heavens for discreet ladies' maids.

Today, these little pots command very high prices at antique sales and auctions.

In all the museums I've visited I have never seen one. But then, of course, they were not made over a long period of time. The one pictured at the left was manufactured in England.

Silver Coffee Service, A Story

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 15:30:00 +0000

When my husband was a young junior Naval officer and we were stationed in Norfolk VA, I was asked to help at a big reception in the Officer's Club on base. The club was a neo-classical, columned building which had been a part of the 1907 Jamestown Exhibition, built on what was then Sewell's Point. Many beautiful and some extravagant buildings were built at the time prior to making it into a Naval base. The O'Club and some buildings from the Exhibition survive to this day.

The main room of the club was appropriately impressive and was set up with a large table at one end. Placed at each end of the table was a massive silver service, much like the one pictured. One end was for coffee, the other for tea. In between was a sea of white and gold-banded teacups and plates of hors d'oeuvres.

I had arrived in my Sunday-best clothes and was asked to sit at one end of the big table and man the coffee pot. And MAN is the operative word here! That puppy was heavy. I began serving coffee sitting, but being 5'2" tall meant that I had to lift that pot high enough to aim the spigot at a cup and not spill a drop. It became immediately apparent this wasn't going to work, so I stood to serve. I was very amused when the lady 'way at the other end of the table stood up also.

New pots of hot coffee were brought out from the kitchen to recharge the pot. By the time my 2 or 3 hours were up, I really felt like I had had a workout!

So let me explain about these silver services. It had been the tradition that early in the Navy's history, large, heavy tea services were part of every major ship and base's equipment for entertaining visiting dignitaries and for important social events. (The service pictured here is one from a battleship*.) They were often made special order from major silver manufacturers and double or triple plated to protect from them the corrosive sea air. While ships were deployed, many times replacement pieces or special pieces were contracted for in the place the ship was moored. For instance, several years ago I found a set of silver finger bowls with the Naval insignia impressed on the sides.

Admiral's messes also had special-order china with the Navy crest and gold banding; heavy silverware was used in the officer's mess. My children thought it was a real treat to have dinner with the officers in the mess when my husband was also standing watch for a night. They learned early how to handle so many spoons and forks. They remember it now as very special and it was.

Today's military does not separate officers from enlisted personnel for food service and the clubs serve combined ranks these days, so many of these heavy silver tea and coffee services are now either in museums, or, in the case of battleships, they have gone back to the state for which the ship was named.

*This set is from the battleship North Carolina.

A Weird Chocolate Pot

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 20:21:00 +0000

Wouldn't you know?

Here's a pot that just disproved all my great theories about handles and spouts.

It looks like a beer stein/chocolate/coffee pot.

Just proves you can find anything on the internet.

But you know, here's the great thing about clay: You can make it into just about Anything.

Whatever you can spin up in your cranium, you can figure out how to make with clay.

For instance, while I was doing a lot of quilting, I got tired of picking up the thread spool, cutting it off in lengths of thread, putting it down, then threading the needle. Sometimes the spool would get misplaced and I'd have to look for it.

I made a little clay spool spinner/holder that could sit on a table next to me and I could whirr the thread off the spool with less fiddling. A bamboo skewer, cut short, fits into a long hole at one end; the other end of the skewer slides down in the opposite side slit.

The extension of clay at one end serves as a small handle.

Coffee Pots

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 21:12:00 +0000

Not many potters make coffee pots. Maybe it's because coffee pots are too complicated. Heat needed at the bottom, perking or dripping the water through, the grounds problem, etc.

Maybe it's because coffee is never (well, hardly ever) moved from the pot that made it.

This is an experimental pot I made just to explore the form. It would work for hot syrup just as well as for one or two cups of coffee, I suppose. Not that a coffee shaped clay piece couldn't be used for tea, mind you.

The exercise got me thinking about coffee pots in general.

Did you know that Chemex® still makes that famous glass drip pot to this day?

(www.chemexcoffeemaker.com)

They now make one without the wooden/leather collar that has a glass handle. Not the funky look, but more practical.

If you wished, I suppose it would be possible to make a pottery one, but then, there's much to be said about watching the coffee being made in glass.

What, in our collective Western minds, distinguishes a coffee pot from a tea pot? The shape.

Coffee pots are nearly always tall with a spout located at the top. Maybe this is because of the need to keep any stray grounds as far away from the liquid as possible.

The original design probably came with the beans from the Arab and African world into Europe. An Arab pot, which is invariably made of brass or other metal has a heavy bottom (for sitting down on sand) and a weighted, hinged lid.

The exception to this is the silver maker's designs which placed a long, S-curved spout on the the coffee component of a silver set. Coffee and tea being served in this manner is always brewed elsewhere and put into the pot. So there's no actual brewing going on here. There were some electric percolators that had a similar design as the silver serving set pot, but that was because we were so in love with everything electric. The design soon died when better coffee could be made in makers like the ones we use today.

Silver chocolate pots often followed the shape of coffee pots, but has the spout or handle, whichever way you want to look at it, offset chocolate offset to one side, signifying it is a chocolate pot. This would seem to be a most awkward way to serve.

During the Victorian era, Limoges and other French and European china makers, as well as Japanese makers, produced chocolate sets that were elongated with the pouring spout located at the top. Most confusing.

I would imagine cleaning congealed chocolate out of an S-shaped spout could be a bit of a drag.

The pots seemed to take on the shape of the fashionable ladies silhouette--that of the 'Gibson Girl' who lost her bustle, gained a slim waist and wore elongated, non-hooped dresses.

Round Answers Round

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 15:38:00 +0000

Round forms make great flower vases. And they are fun to throw on the wheel.

Putting a good lid on a very round form is another matter altogether.

"The Bishop" is a small piece with a totally experimental lid. It may not look it, but this lid really works well as far as ease of grasp and access to the jar. It has a flange inside.

It can be difficult to find a distinctive lid that holds it's own with the form, yet relates to it in design.

This is a fairly unassuming lid on this brown teapot, but then there's a lot of 'round' going on above it.

Same with the large green basket.

I like to see a lot of 'air' in the negative space. It makes you feel you can slip your hand inside the space with no problems.

Relating the curve of a handle with a very round vessel is another design consideration--you want the negative space to be neither too large or too small and to relate well to the roundness of the pot.

Sending Digitals to Juries

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 15:36:00 +0000

I've been involved in lots of shows juries over the years. One of the biggest jobs involving shows is keeping all the entries sorted.

Even within strict parameter rules for entry, things come to jury committees in many forms and one must be meticulous about handling all the material. Some work gets submitted in the most appalling manner.

When you send digital entries, be sure to label the CD exactly as they request. And, as mentioned previously, be sure to use a special pen for writing on disks. If no special format is requested, I always do this anyway. Your name, the show or entry title, the date and any other brief information is enough.

In addition, I compose a paper thumbnail label with the same information to slip inside the jewelbox. Then I make a large CD label that fits into the front of the box.

Most printers will do CD label sizes. If not, figure out the size, print it off and cut with scissors to fit.

The name of the show, your name, mailing address (omitted in the example), phone number and email address and any other information that might be needed should go on the label. If there is any question about your entry, it will be easy for the show committee to get in contact. Your job is to make it as easy as possible to for the jury and committee. Choose a regular disk--not the more expensive read/write kind for your submission.

Don't send a huge, gazillion-pixel image. Stay within the image size they request. They don't want to have to fiddle with your entry. They don't have the time or possibly the computer capacity to handle huge shots.

iPhoto 8.1

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 15:12:00 +0000

There's a big difference between the old iPhoto and the newer edition. I prefer the old version. It's Edit mode was far easier to initiate; the new program requires extra steps. Not a big thing for one or two shots, but if you are processing a large collection, it can get a bit irritating.

The new iPhoto also seems awkward and dumbed down. With the old program, it was as if you were working with both hands; the new iPhoto's like working it with one hand behind the back.

You can't adjust the size and volume of images with as much ease. The bottom window must be moved out of the way to access the bottom corners of the 'crop' function. The straightening feature is nice. There is a 'balance scale' at the bottom of the image and a light grid for lining up the verticals in a shot. But be sure you straighten the photo before you crop it. Otherwise, you must go backward to access it.And will revert to the older version of the window if you crop first, then decide to straighten or level the shot. So you must return to crop and do that function again. Level first, then crop.

It is more difficult to access the data on size. With the older program, that information was available when you cropped and saved the image. With the new program, it isn't as forthcoming.

What I DO like in the new iPhoto is the capability to alter the overall image without going to Photoshop or another program. It's built right in and has a pretty good range.

At least enough for private family photos. You can lighten the exposure, 'warm up or cool down' the color, change the tint. That's really nice when working with old slides that have gone a bit blue with age or shots that were taken with too much or not enough light. I've been able to rehabilitate some old slides that would have been lost.

As far as slides of your work are concerned, it is my understanding that publications like Ceramics Monthly, Pottery Illustrated, etc. and some show juries and publishing editors will reject a slide outright if they see it has been processed through Photoshop or any other editing program.

Some people have told me the marking can removed, but frankly, that's just too much trouble for me. Better to take a really good slide in the first place. And if that's beyond your reach, get a set of good pro slides done.

Images-From Camera to Disk

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 22:48:00 +0000

When taking digital shots, I like to select the setting that will allow the largest format the camera will permit.

For instance, my camera is a Cannon Power Shot SD500. It can take Super Fine photos, but the video card will only hold 78 exposures. For Fine, I can get 125 shots. (By the way, you can also store a limited amount of stuff on a video card, though that could get pretty 'spendy.)

With most image handling computer programs, you can control the size of the export for storage. I like to store rather large images initially. You can always reduce them, but you sure can't make them bigger once they're reduced.

Storage disks with the largest memory are perfect for back-up. You can download a single image onto your computer without eating up too much memory.

I try to remember to print off at least one full-page color print of the image and file it away in a binder notebook as a portfolio page.

I label each disk and store in a crystal case. Make sure there's a good label or thumbnail shots of what is stored on the disk.

If you do this routinely, you will be prepared for whatever call for entry or request for work pictures that comes your way. And you'll also save yourself some 'digging time' trying to locate examples of your work.

Image Archive: Storage and Management

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 13:15:00 +0000

This whole image-managing stuff started with the need to organize some photos a show entry.

When I got a new laptop computer earlier this year, I kept the bulk of my work slides on the old Mac G4. "I'll just leave them there and pick out what I need when I need to." I told myself.

And it worked just fine--for a while.

Then I took some new work pictures. So, the questions came up: Do I load them into the old G4? Put them in the new laptop? How will I keep track of what's new and where?

Makes more sense to put them in the new computer for easier access, right?......... I needed to take a new look at how they were organized into categories and folders. Maybe I could rearrange them in a better way.

I made new folders labeled "Teapots, Drinking Vessels, Plates and Platters, Sculpture, 2-Dimentional", etc., sorted the old jpegs, attached them to emails and sent them in groups of 3 to the new computer.

This works because I have two email accounts. I can send using one email account from my local provider to the other email account. Though I'm guessing it could work using the same address for both (?) because the two computers have different numerical addresses. (This is the method I used to transfer as-needed digitals anyway, so now I will only do it once and have a better sorting system to boot.) Beside that, I'll keep the old library on the old G4 as one form of back-up.

I also made backup files and burned them onto disks for additional insurance in case the old G4 decides to go BJORK. I used a special pen for notation on disks, but I don't t like writing directly on the the backside. Just to be safe, I write the information I need to know on the clear, inner part of the disk. Noting the date is also a good idea--month and year will do.

I only use Read/Write discs just in case I want to rearrange things or need to add new images to the back-ups. (Haven't tried to do this yet, but it sounds like a good idea, anyway.)

Then, I began to think about all the old slides I had in binders........

and old family slides........

Images and Slides

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 17:12:00 +0000

Entries into juried shows have, for the most part, converted the entry process from sending slides to sending a computer disk of entries.

So, some time ago, I purchased a Nikon Cool Scan V slide converter. I have binders of old pro and archive slides that needed converting and back-up.

So, these last few weeks, I've been hacking away at doing just that when I can get the time and the gumption. I really needed to get a better handle on accessing and managing my slides with new work images.

Add to that the purchase of a new laptop and the need to get everything in one place. The old images were still sitting on the G4 Mac. I needed them on the laptop and in a new catalog system for easier access. I also realized I needed to do the grunt work of putting ALL of the old and new digitals on back-up disks.

Let me tell you, it's tedious converting slides.

Each slide must be hand-fed into the scanner's maw, it's electronic digestion groans; you punch the "Scan" button on the computer screen, the scanner humms and haws, making it sound like it's grinding up the slide within. It then ups the musical scale to let you know it has swallowed the image and is digesting.......Then, when you request the image delivery, it sings and whines and dumps it to the desktop.

It's like feeding baby food to an 8-month-old and dealing with the result. (Meaning there's more work ahead managing the image within a program like iPhoto.)

You push a scanner button to punch out the old slide--it even has something to say about THAT.

What a Prima Donna.

On the whole, the process is slow and boring as hell.

Who knew this could get so complicated! And you thought making art was just making art.

"HA", the Gods say, "HA!"

Preoccupations

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 14:51:00 +0000

I've been spending a lot of time lately processing peaches. We have a wonderful "frost peach" tree growing alongside our entry way that, this year at least, has decided to share it's bounty in abundance.

It bloomed like crazy in the spring giving us a waft of perfume and a visual treat every time we went in and out. The carpenter ants attacked it and my husband sprayed and covered the tree-wound with a protective strip of metal. I cropped back what my grandfather used to refer to as "water sprouts" when they appeared. When the blossoms cascaded down to be replaced with downy oval fruit starts, I thinned them out. I think now I should have been even more severe.

Every day for the past few weeks, we have gone out to collect the fruit before it falls to the ground. The result has been overflowing bowls of nearly-perfect to perfect peaches.

I have put up jars of pickled peaches, jars of peaches for future pies and desert, and jars and more jars of peach jam. We have given bags away. We've eaten them almost every day in one form or another. We are nearing the burn-out state fast.

Come fall, we will crop the limbs back severely to protect the tree from it's own enthusiasm. And I'll be sure to thin even more when the fruit starts appears again.

Beside the peach crop, we have harvested blueberries, rhubarb and now, hopefully the elderberry bushes will produce enough of that precious fruit for my private reserve of jelly. We hope for enough tomatoes to put up a few jars for winter eating.

So, for now, I must answer the garden and honor my own thrift.

Right Brain/Left Brain Color Test

noreply@blogger.com (clayartist) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 18:00:00 +0000

I love taking tests. Some people hate them, but I'm a sucker for them.

Here's one ,courtesy of my daughter-in-law, that give you a good idea of what your right brain and left brain tell you.

If you're left brained, you rely on "just the facts, ma'm". It's the timekeeper, the place where math smarts reside, the disciplinarian. The right brain is where all the fantasies, creative thought, the habitat of Muses. (Musi?)

This test asks you to select the color of the word, not the meaning of the word.

I suspect artists, musicians and craftsmen will find it easier than, say accountants, scientists, and folks that must work with cold hard facts.

www.humorsphere.com/fun/8787/colortest.swf

Have fun.

(P.S.) I did it in 2, but then, I had to get used to how fast four seconds are.

Excuses, excuses.

Here's another site for left brain/right brain:

www.intelliscript.net/test_area/questionnaire/questionnaire.cgi?q=right_brain_left_brain_2

So, can you visualize a transparent cube in your mind? Then make it tumble?

Can you recall complex music and replay it in your mind?

Can you visualize your next project in virtual reality; looking at it from all sides, the bottom or the bird's eye view?

A Totally Useless Random Fact: Did you know you have to use both sides of your brain to sing a melody and lyrics?