Reflections: Snot from the fire gods

The previous post reminded me of this piece. I think it was a saggar firing and, at the moment, I can't remember what I even glazed them in... but there are two glazes at work here (the lip of the bowl was dipped in something else, which gives it the aesthetic it has above). It's a pretty big bowl, maybe about 15 inches in diameter. But the reason why I like this piece, and was reminded of it from the previous post, is that the result was very much unexpected - particularly that effect in the middle.

When the piece came out of the firing, the ceramics teacher looked at me and said that I got some "kiln snot." I thought the phrase was amusing: "kiln snot." My bowl was a kleenex and the fire gods decided to blow their nose! Sometimes they bless you with something nice and sometimes they shit on it. It's part of the fun. The uncertainty. The unexpected. We try to control for the effects, adjusting where we place it in the kiln, trying to decrease or increase oxygen flow, manage runny glazes, use wax, control how long we dip the glaze - depending on our understanding of it, use electric or gas kilns, and do the best we can. But there is always the possibility for something weird and fun. I think it's best to embrace the uncertainty and the unknown as we perfect our craft and techniques.

While there is, at least for non-production potters (and this isn't to say that production potters don't put their own stamp on their work but part of their training is to make every piece the same - a mechanization of embodied technique), a deep personalization with the process of creating a piece and when you have something you really like, it makes the glazing process that much more difficult fully knowing that the fire gods may not bless it with the desired outcome. And when the work comes out of the fire, sometimes you love it that much more or learn to detach yourself from it, take a couple lessons for the future, and disgard it. I remember my old ceramics teacher from high school telling me that out of every 10 pieces he throws, he might like 1 or 2. I never understood this until later on and it's one of those things that I've remembered. And indeed, if it weren't for my mother, even as an amateur and hobbyist, I probably would have trashed most of my pieces or recycled them into something else (For the record, I would have kept this piece - never had the fire gods blow their nose before).