Friday, January 6, 2017

On the Constant Migration of Objects

I don't know about you, but I find myself spending a fair amount of time moving things around. I really became aware of this this past week as I put my studio back together after my Christmas sale.

For the sale, I have to move all my pots into the studio. I am not able to heat the half-garage (which I call Crabapple Gallery) where I store my pottery. That's fine most of the year, but not so fine in December when it is apt to be well below freezing. I usually invite a few friends to join me with their art work, and they get the house. So all pots have to move into the studio. I carry my pots around in those Rubbermaid containers, more-or-less cushioned by pieces of bubblewrap. I think this year it was about 20 trips to bring them all in. Of course, there were also things in the studio which had to go in the garbage - trip to the garage- and things that had to be washed - trip to the house, trip back.

After the sale, things had to be put away again so I could have my work space back. So 4 tubs back to Crabapple, several trips to carry the tablecloths, left-over wrapping paper and bags and such, several trips to take my Christmas decorations back to the garage where they can get lost for another year...

So it took me about two days to move objects to get ready for my sale, and the better part of a day to move objects back to where they came from so I could get back to work. And this goes on all the time. This morning I planned to make small plates, but before I could start I had to carry water to the studio because the pail was empty, take the bowl of washing water in to the house and clean that up, then take the bowl and the washed things back to the studio. Then I noticed that the last firing had left several seconds sitting on my table, so they had to go to Crabapple, and while I was there I picked up some bags because my small stack of bags in the studio was depleted.

Seems I'm always moving objects around. Maybe I'm not a potter, just a clay-based beast of burden. Years ago, going canoe camping, I used to measure all trips in the number of portages involved. Maybe nothing has changed... or maybe we humans are only here to serve all those objects that want to move from place to place but lack the feet to do it with.