Who was that masked bowl?

I was talking to one of Denise's friends at last week's book arts meeting (Denise was halfway through cataract surgery, so I got to drive). Turns out Elizabeth is taking throwing classes at Lane Community College, and enjoying it greatly, after a fairly shaky start. We commiserated about the challenges of learning to center (it took me the better part of a semester-and-a-half), talked about our favorite forms, and I showed her a few pics of my work on the phone.

I think we have one of your bowls, she said. It has a raccoon on it. We bought it for my father-in-law, who used to feed them in his yard. 

I allow as how it might very well be mine, though might also have been by Gordon Ward, another potter who used to make painted-animal pots in Eugene in the eighties and nineties. She says they inherited it when he died, and offers to send me a photo.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present the heirloom Off Center Raccoon Bowl. It's definitely one of mine, though old. The rim isn't quite in my oldest version--it has a spiral cut into it, but it doesn't have the radial marks I added later. And the raccoon is posed completely differently than its modern counterpart. I think it's actually inspired by a quick watercolor sketch I did of raccoons in our carport (they used to come in after dark to clean up the spilled kibble left by the outdoor cats). Later pattern evolved from photos I took of the self-same bandits.

Progress

Made a lot of progress, yesterday. I'm working half days on the sculpture, afternoons, as a reward for doing taxes in the morning. I've got all the Schedule C's, 1099's (INT, DIV, R, B) and even the form 1041 for Denise's late mother's trust pretty much done, so I get to go back to Mumfrey.

First, I slab over the back, fill in the sides and up over the shoulders. Once that's all reinforced inside, scraped and smoothed outside, it's time to add the head.

I decide that the tail looks a little short, so make that the wing tips instead, and prepare an extension to go underneath. I use the narrow bits of scrap slab with my trusty scale-making roller to build a sturdy pair of legs.

I firm up the tail a little more by leaning it on the space heater, then attach and smooth it, matching planes and edges. Since the tail is hollow, I make a vent into the body to permit air circulation and evaporation. I'd hate to blow the tail off in the firing. Lastly, I get out some red stoneware to fashion a hamster-appropriate saddle. It's currently separated by a little plastic. I'll wrap the quail and leave the saddle uncovered overnight. By the next day it should be about the same stiffness, so safe to attach. (If I'd put it on wet, it would shrink and crack away in drying.

I sorta feel like the head may be a little undersized for the body, but in the story, Mumfrey is a specially-bred riding quail, too heavy to fly, so I assume his body is more turkey-sized than quail sized. Or so I rationalize not cutting it off and starting over...

Getting a leg up

Not a lot of visible progress today, just a lot of fiddly bits. I slabbed the belly to the internal cone last night, then assembled top and bottom and scraped and smoothed to match curves. Then had to leave it over night, as I couldn't pull them apart again without messing up the work I'd just done.

I also rolled out a base slab, and textured it with a brick roller I built last year. I'd been experimenting with brick, cobbles, other architectural textures, and this one seemed to be the best-defined. Today I need to pose the legs, attach them, trim the tops to match the curve of the belly, attach it, check the fit, disassemble, put on the saddle. Like I said, fiddly bits, but the result is pretty amazing.

I'm really psyched to start on Harriet herself, but the white clay I want to use is way wet, so I slice out some bits and set it out on drywall to firm up, then bag it up for tomorrow before I go to bed.