offcntr | Entries tagged with bears

Most of last weekend is a blur at this point, selling, wrapping, saying the same thing to customers over and over. A few encounters stand out.

james stopped in to visit Sunday morning, to pick up a couple of bird calendars--Audobon and Cornell Bird Labs--and a one-ounce sample of "smoky" tea Denise got from Tea Source. Realized we'd only met in person once before, back in full COVID, so we'd never seen each other's faces, only masks. Not that I'll remember next time we meet--I seem to be moderately face-blind.

My friend Carol dropped by to visit a bit. She's a sculptor, a woodcarver, who was introduced by a mutual friend back in my graduate school days, because we were both sculpting, and both from Wisconsin. We don't see each other often--a couple of times a year at best--but it's always entertaining when we do.

KIds' reactions to my teddy bear can be all over the map. Littles may smile and reach for the bear, or have a sudden attack of shy. (Rarely, do they burst into tears, thank god.) Teens and grown-ups tend to smile and wave back; tweens will often do the "I'm too cool" waist-level tiny hand-wave. This one, however, a girl, went all out. Big smile, wave, Kermit flail, balancing on one leg so she could wave back with her foot. Did everything the bear did, except, thankfully, the final cartwheel. Big smiles all around.

Adult mother an daughter stopped in, deep in discussion of which pieces they'd gotten for Grandma in previous years. I got her the... No, I got that, you got... Not to mention all the things they'd gotten themselves. I'm definitely their family potter.

Had a woman ask if there was another potter here at Market whose work looks like mine. Really, no, I think it's pretty unique... Well, I remember seeing it here, only the guy was much younger. Oookay... Don't know what to make of that. Maybe it was your son minding the booth for you? Uh, no, I don't have any kids, and when I have to leave the booth, I put the "Be Right Back" sign on the bear-du-jour and put him on my stool. Makes me wonder how long ago this was...

Very low turnout of vendors yesterday, probably due to the weather report. Depending on who you consulted, anywhere between 29 and 100% change of showers--my weather app said 63%. But I missed last week because of Clay Fest, and plan on taking the remaining weeks off to make pots for the Holiday sales, so I was down on the Park Blocks at 7:30 am, setting up my booth.

Surprisingly, for as grey and threatening as the skies looked, I was able to set up entirely dry, even seeing a few streaks of blue sky to the east, though they quickly filled in with clouds. I put the walls up as a precaution, kept the empty boxes inside. It continued dry as I shopped the Farmers Market, and only spit briefly around 9:30, just enough to get me to drop the walls and help Danny move his tables off the sidewalk and under his roof.

After that, we only got the slightest amount of rain around mid-morning, gone by lunchtime. Never got warm, but in all not a bad day.

Had a couple of sales to folks who'd come looking for my last weekend and not found me, and at least two who had. A couple who'd bought a mug at Clay Fest came back to pick out another, as well as six of Denise's watercolor cards. And a woman who'd talked to Denise about ordering a four-place table setting stopped in, picked out six dessert plates to buy now, and gave me twelve more patterns to put on dinner plates and soup bowls in my next firing.

A young woman asked if I ever painted insects on pots. I pointed out the butterfly and dragonfly mugs (and forgot I had a mantis in the box), and told her I also had a ladybug pattern, perched on a daisy. At which point she excitedly showed me the ladybugs painted on her fingernails, and told me her name was Daisy. I'm making a ladybug tall mug for her in my next firing.

Almost had a kidnapping on my hands--a little girl playing peek-a-boo with Yuri wanted a bear hug, then took him with her, heading for the sidewalk. Just pretending, laughed and gave him back. I gave her a bear picture postcard in thanks. And gave Yuri a reassuring squeeze.

Packed up dry at 4 pm, having made about $560, and went over to Club Mud to mix up 20,000 grams of glaze, before heading home for leftovers, starting a bisque firing, and bed. It really is the busy season.

Haven't had time for much of anything but pottery of late, so it was nice to be able to attend our monthly book arts meeting. The demonstration topic was tunnel books. I'd made one before, but this one had an innovation I quite liked. Instead of gluing in the inner pages, you cut a slit halfway down the accordion fold, and a corresponding one on each side of the page, so they slotted together. No muss, no fuss, only glue on the very front and back.

Didn't really have an idea for subject matter, but I took along last year's Inktober sketchbook, paged through it until I found inspiration, and drew this scene. Cut out with Xacto, color with pencils, and voila! It's Fat Bear season.

And this one, I'm not giving away.

Saturday Market has a few iron-clad rules. The first is The Maker is the Seller. No kits, no imports, no resales cleverly disguised as originals.

The second involves respect to the community. No shouting. Don't badger the customers, call out to passersby, In the words of the members manual, No aggressively "hawking" your wares.

I wonder, does this count?

I mean, it's a hawk. Well, a kestrel, a sparrowhawk, tiny little thing. Probably smaller in real life than it appears on this big serving bowl. Hawking at a whisper.

Doesn't matter, anyway; a couple came in and bought it not two hours after I posted it as my Today's Theme Is on Instagram.

Chere, my usual potter neighbor, was gone down to California, driving the doggie rescue bus, so her space was occupied by a new member. New to Market, new to Eugene, and it was a crying shame she didn't sell at Country Fair last weekend. She'd have made bank.

Her name was Kira, business name Riddlemetrue's Leathercraft. Brilliant masks, key fobs, journals, bookmarks and fantasy maps. She'd just gotten back into the fair circuit after a move from California and a new baby. Who was there in the booth with her. Along with a four-by-four pop-up canopy, six grid panels, a table, two camp chairs, multiple boxes of product, a folding stroller and playpen. Her husband helped set up the booth and grids, then left to park the truck while she hung up masks and baby Rowan snoozed in the crib.

For a while. Twenty minutes, maybe thirty, before she started fussing. Began crying, quietly at first, then louder. There was only one thing I could do.

I loaned her my bear. Umberto bravely entered the playpen, and the fussing immediately turned to pleased gurgles. The distraction lasted long enough for her to get the rest of the masks out, and I helped move the stroller back into the unused space behind the booth, giving her enough room to organize the rest.

The day started pretty slow, I finally made my first sale around 11, a gravy boat and one of Denise's large journals. After that, things were steady: an incense dragon, some mugs. Four pie plates in a row. A trio of women, cousins, one of whom was the daughter of a retired Market glass and lapidary artist, crowded the booth, looking at all the painted mugs and tall mugs, before settling on four. The big kestrel bowl sold, to a couple who've been using Cornell bird lab's app and finally saw a kestrel live, after having its call IDed multiple times.

A young couple came in to get another mug, having bought one last weekend. He was wearing a University of Wisconsin-La Crosse track shirt, so I asked if he'd attended. No, but his mother had. Told him I'd been across town at Viterbo, met and married my wife there. He bought the bear mug, and a hummingbird French butter dish as well.

A little girl came in to look around while her sister was considering fantasy maps at Kira's. She was wearing a T-shirt that read, "I'm really a ladybug; this is just my human costume" and carrying a canvas tote covered by bugs, reading "Easily Distracted by Insects." I told her she really needed to visit my next door neighbor, Jesse, who makes shadow boxes and compositions around beetles and butterflies. Her squeals of delight probably attracted dogs in the surrounding six counties.

Sometime around two, the cousins returned. They'd scouted the rest of the Market, decided they liked my mugs the best, picked out five more, going through all the tall mugs in the restock box, arguing about who was going to pay and how. I just smiled and wrapped things.

Talked to several people from northwestern Washington, Bellingham and Camano Island, so was able to alert them to the Anacortes Arts Festival, and took their email addresses so I could send them my e-card.

Sold my last tall mug, a praying mantis, to Jesse just before closing. She'd had a really good day, a relief after last weekend's poor showing. Kira's day was slower--no masks, though she sold some dragon-eye key chains, a map and bookmarks. She's going to look into selling at the Renaissance Fair, and is doing one of her California shows. Sadly, FaerieWorlds, which would have been perfect for her, closed during the pandemic and didn't reopen.

I ended up at exactly $1100 for the day, bettering even last week's great day. Between the two, I covered ton of clay delivered at the beginning of the month.

Slow, quiet day at Market. No fireworks. No marches. No bullhorn evangelists. (Though I understand last weekend had much of all. Pride March. Abusive preacher. Market was proactive in blocking all the corners with sign, bins, trash, forcing him to move half a block further north, but he had an enormous loud-hailer. Apparently, he offended the wrong folks, because a fight broke out. Police ended up arresting four people, two vendors from the unregulated Free Speech Corner Market (not part of Saturday Market), one civilian... and the "reverend" himself. Being in Roseburg, I missed all the excitement. Though I guess Eli the glass blower got the arrest on video and posted it to the Market members Facebook page.)

Nothing nearly so exciting to recount this week. Have some bear pictures instead.

According to the Saturday Market newsletter, last Saturday was National Black Bear Day. Wish I'd known in advance. Coulda done something to celebrate...

Until Saturday Market!

A little present for all of you...

The Gift of the Magus

A Fable for Epiphany

Once upon a time, in a land far to the east, there were four wise men. Yes, I know, you've heard of the three wise men; trust me, there were four.

They were all magi, astrologers, priest-kings of their own domains, and they all had observed a certain new star in its rising, and gathered together to discuss its significance. Throughout the long night they took sightings, made measurements, pored over star charts and logarithm tables and fiddled with their secret decoder rings, and finally determined that there had been born a new king of the Jews, in the land to the west of them. Being kings, they immediately saw the diplomatic potential of this, and set about to do him homage.

Of course, you don't simply drop in on a royal household unannounced, at least not without a little present of some sort. So the first king, Caspar immediately went down to his treasury and produced a bag of gold. "Just the thing," he proclaimed.

Not to be outdone, Melchior climbed the tower to his treasury, and brought down a cask of frankincense. "This should put me in the right odor," he chortled.

Forthwith Balthazar, the third king, hurried to his treasury and returned with a canister of myrrh. Nobody knew what myrrh was, but at 400 ogats to the ounce, it was that season's hot investment item. "All set," he cried.

The fourth king, whose name was Bob, was appalled. "What kind of presents are those for a baby?" he exclaimed. "Can't you do any better than that?" But the other kings argued that time was of the essence, and that he should grab something from the treasury and join the caravan. "You go ahead without me," Bob urged, "I'll just stop downtown and pick something up, and catch up with you on the road." So three of the kings set out, following the star, which went ahead of them as they traveled.

Meanwhile, Bob hurried downtown, hoping to find silk nappies, or a crystal rattle, something more appropriate to a newborn king. To his dismay, however, he found the shops all closed when he got there, because of course it was Christmas eve. He quartered the length and breadth of the city, with no better luck, and finally arrived tired and discouraged, well past midnight, on the doorstep of his favorite aunt.

Aunt Marge had raised him from a princelet; his parents, being jet-setting near-eastern potentates, had never had much time to spare for family matters. She'd always been the one he counted on for good advice, and tonight he certainly needed that.

She was still up when he rang, welcomed him in, offered him strong coffee and kringle, and bit by bit wormed the story out of him.

"...So you see, none of that stuff really seemed appropriate for a baby," he concluded, "but I've been all over town, and haven't been able to do any better. Oh, Aunt Marge, what should I do?" He slumped, discouraged, on the sofa.

"Well, you've come to the right place, at least," she soothed, refilling his coffee. "Best selection of royal toys in the kingdom, right here under this roof. A little out-of-date," she twinkled, "but definitely kid-tested."

"You don't mean..."

"That's right, all your old toys, still up in the attic!" She led the way up the stairs.

"Boy, this brings back memories," he sighed, digging through the old toy box. There was his first soccer ball, gone flat with the years. Building blocks with arcane symbols on the sides. The toy drum he'd punched hole through as a 4-year-old, trying to rum-pa-pum-pum too vigorously. And at the bottom of the box--

"Just the thing," exclaimed Aunt Marge, holding up the teddy bear. It was limp, and a little threadbare, and the fur had rubbed off in spots. One eye was missing.

"Oh no, I couldn't, look at it!" he wailed.

"Oh, hush, it just needs a little fixing up," she scolded, "here, bring it downstairs."

Once down in the parlor, Aunt Marge proved as good as her words. She plumped out the bear with a couple of old woolen socks from the ragbag, and stitched him back up. She sewed on a new button eye, that almost matched the old one, and she cut a length of new red silk ribbon to replace the old, bedraggled bow. Examining her handiwork, she proclaimed, "Fit for a king."

So finally, Bob set out. By this time it was dawn, and the star had set, but he checked his notes, took the best bearing he could, and started off. It turned out that he miscalculated, overshot, and had to backtrack half a days journey, but three days later he was in a coffee shop in a small village on the Judean frontier, listening worriedly to the local gossip. He had a brief moment of concern when the village police started taking an interest in him, but as he was traveling alone, and entering, not leaving, he got off with a little fast talk, and buying a round of doughnuts.

It was nightfall of the fourth day when he arrived at a stable on the outskirts of Bethlehem. The star dithered overhead, as if it were uncertain whether to stay or leave, or was perhaps impatient to be going. In the stable yard, a middle-aged man with the broad shoulders and blackened thumbnails of a carpenter was tying a small bundle to the back of a small donkey. A woman with a larger bundle sat patiently on a larger donkey nearby.

Bob dismounted his camel. "I seek the newborn king of the Jews," he said, "I have seen his star in its rising, and have come to do him homage."

The carpenter rolled his eyes heavenward and grimaced, as if to say, Another one? Before he could reply, the woman's bundle began to wail.

"I don't know what's wrong," she sighed, rocking and shushing the swaddled babe. "He's not hungry, and he's not wet. I suppose," she admitted, folding her cloak closer around the bundle, "that he could just be cold."

"Here, try this," offered Bob, drawing the bear from under his cloak, "it always worked for me."

She accepted the gift with a grateful glance, tucked it into her bundle. The wail immediately subsided to a pleased gurgle.

"We're off to Egypt," confided the husband, "the sooner the better. Don't like the political climate around here."

"From what I've heard, that sounds like a good idea," agreed Bob. "And you might want to take the back roads 'til you're well past Caesarea Phillippi. Just for luck."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," was the reply. "By the way, can you change foreign currency? All I've got are these ogats, and I need to pay the bill before we leave." So Bob gave them all the shekels he'd got in change from the doughnut shop and bid them farewell.

And he returned to his own country by a different route.

Frank A. Gosar

December 24, 1995

Frank and Denise and all the bears at Off Center Ceramics would like to wish you all a wonder-filled holiday season!

When you're a pre-adolescent boy who should be too cool to interact with my teddy bear, but still can't resist.

Something Rotten was amazing. I'm always delighted to see how much talent a local theatre can access, and all the leads were stellar. The dancers were recruited from the local high school, and were damn good, and some of the costuming was brilliant.

We went to the Sunday afternoon matinee, got back to Eugene around suppertime, so decided to treat ourselves to a pre-birthday dinner out at Evergreen Indian Restaurant. Chicken makhani and rice for me, Chicken saag and tandoori bread for Denise, and bonus! I didn't have to cook supper.

Monday morning Denise tackled her secret baking project, so I went and worked on the van for Clay Fest, then came in to do some computer work while she went for her flu shot/Covid booster. Because her monthly arthritis infusion is a strong immunosuppresant, she has to schedule vaccinations as far apart from the infusion as possible, and the halfway point happened to land on my birthday.

Went out to dinner again, this time to Angkor Cambodian Restaurant, where we both had Beef Lok Lak. Very tasty.

Got a couple of birthday cards in the mail--one from an old college friend, others from insurance company and bank, but I also got my Medicare Advantage card, so that's sorted out.

Denise got me some Star Trek DVDs--Lower Decks and season one of Prodigy--so we'll have to schedule some viewing time. Haven't seen season two of Prodigy, may have to do a binge-subscription after New Years.

And the cake is delicious!

One of my favorite things about glazing cookie jars and teapots is that they're round. I can put a paining on one side, then turn it around and put another on the back. (Or, occasionally, do a continuous painting all the way around. Peacocks are good for this.)

Here's a favorite from the current firing. Don't think I've ever combined these two bear images before.

Off Center Ceramics is officially closed for 2023!

We had a busy--in fact record-breaking--Holiday Market, so I expect to be back in the studio soon, building up stock for the new year. Meantime, though, we're catching up on sleep, packing and shipping presents to family in the midwest--they know better than to expect their presents before Epiphany-- and maybe, just maybe... celebrating our own Christmas.

Hope yours is joyous and restful.

For cetacean identification!

...yup. Those are whales, all right.

Back to Market after our week away, and it's the first really nice Saturday I've seen. No trace of rain, early clouds broken open to sun, and I'm in shirt sleeves by takedown. Only real down side was the new bark mulch the city laid out in the plantings right behind the booth. In the past, we've asked them to put it out in advance of Market, to let the volatiles bake out, but I guess they've forgotten. So all of us were variously coughing, headachey, or sniffling, depending on our particular reaction.

We also were visited by street preachers this weekend, one on each block, with big offensive signs--the one seemed to equate Islam with evil--and, in the case of one of them, a megaphone. There's not much we can do about them, it's a public space, even if we pay to rent it for the day. We could apparently get the loudspeaker shut down, it's against city ordinance. So, since they were on the north edge and I the south, it was just an annoying rumble in the background until they finally gave up around lunch time.

Besides, I had a much better visitor. Just a little before 10, a tiny little toddler galumphed down the street. She went into Cheri's booth, next door, first, thankfully wasn't tall enough to see the brightly colored mugs on the tables. Then she came exploring with me, and saw my bear. Toddled right up and gave Pyotr a bear hug, while I held on--this isn't my first rodeo--then let go again. Mom and Dad were coaxing, Tyler, don't you want to go to the park? We need to go, but Tyler spotted the second bear, so Bella had to get a hug as well before she finally agreed to leave. She's very good at letting go, I told her folks. That's surprising, she isn't usually, they replied.

Afternoon brought another visit, an enormous Earth Day flash mob. They poured down Oak Street, streamed past my booth on east Park, and eventually rallied in our food court. (I kinda wish they'd come earlier, to drown out the evangelists.)

I get a lot of locals in who've found my work elsewhere first: Tsunami Books, Great Harvest Bakery, Empty Bowls. It's always fun to see them realize just how broad my oeuvre is. It's not just mugs or bowls, there's lots more choices. Sometimes they'll buy something more, sometimes they'll just tell me what they got (and love) elsewhere. Either way, it's gratifying.

And then there was the young woman who recognized, not the pottery, but the watercolor cards. Denise and I collaborate on these, her handmade paper matched with prints from my sketchbooks. Turns out she has one framed on her wall, and it inspired her, in part, to get a tattoo. Here it is, still under the wrap: a brand new pigeon. We talked about pigeons for a bit, and I looked up Rosemary Mosco's new book to recommend (It's A Pocket Guide to Pigeon Watching, and it looks delightful).

Despite the weather, and the Earth Day crowds, sales were down from last time. Can't complain, though. An average day now would have been spectacular, pre-pandemic.

Had a lovely birthday yesterday. Denise baked a cake, a once-a-year event. Got me some new jeans--all my old ones are now too big--and a pack of winter sox. Took me to dinner at our favorite Italian place, Beppe & Gianni's.

Best of all, we went down to the Cascades Raptor Center for the afternoon. I'd wanted to go for some time now, and last year we even got memberships, which came with four free tickets, good through this month. So we grabbed my sketchbook and her cane--the site is fairly steep--and spent a lovely couple of hours admiring and sketching birds. Filled two pages of my October challenge journal, vulture, eagle, and a bunch of owls.
chocolate cake for breakfast!

Also? She went poking around Goodwill Thursday, and came home with a new bear! He's a classic Chosun Sammy bear (with the signature big feet), same color range as our three Russian bears, Yuri, Dora and Yevgeny. Everyone, meet Pyotr.
future's so bright, he gotta wear shades

future's so bright, he gotta wear shades

I almost lost a bear today.

For those who haven't perused the Occasionally Asked Questions at offcenter.biz, the section on bears:

What's with the bears?
Well, the sitter cancelled at the last moment... Actually, we started bringing teddy bears to our first Holiday Market. Sales were very slow, and it was nice to have someone to clutch besides each other, especially someone who didn't bruise easily. Since then we've discovered that bears distract crying children, attract child-like grown-ups, and generally make the process of meeting customers and selling art a lot more fun. We're actually both very shy, so the bears make introductions. In fact, we'd call them the unsung heroes of Off Center Ceramics, except that they now have their own song.

So we were visited by a mom and very young daughter--certainly less than two years old--and daughter was fascinated by the banks. So I brought them down to stroller-level so she could see and touch, showed her a pig, and and elephant, kitty and T. Rex. In an attempt to distract her so mom could move on, I offered her a picture, a leftover postcard from our summer shows. Unfortunately, I had my teddy bear under my arm at the time.

Of course, she pointed at the bear; the bear tickled her, she giggled; the bear danced, she chortled. Reached out her arms. If I let her hug it, will she give it back? I asked Mom. Oh, I'm sure she will.

Reader, she did not. Hugged poor Yevgeny tighter while mom cajoled and I made sad eyes. She was not gonna part with that bear, even when offered her new felt duck toy. Finally, mom removed the bear by force, and her wails could be heard down to the corner, and halfway down the block. Poor 'Geny was traumatized.

Just for fun yesterday, I decided to send out the 'bat signal on Instagram. The wom-bat, that is.

Got a slightly late start to Market; had to restack and cover ware boards of plates I'd thrown Friday, so lost fifteen or twenty minutes. It was supposed to be sunny and warm; in fact, it was overcast, grey and drizzling all the way in, though it stopped misting by the time I reached downtown. But I popped up the canopy, pulled out the shelves, and had just opened the first box of pots when I gained an audience.

His name was Greg; he said he came down from Portland once a year, just to come to my booth. Told him it would be a bit, and he said it was fine; offered him a stool, but he was content to stand and watch, while around us, the Market assigned lottery booths. Finally got the last pots out, and Denise's paper, and told him I was as organized as I was gonna get, and he immediately picked out four soup bowls, handed me his card.

I processed the sale, and was wrapping the bowls, when he asked, Is that a wombat? I said he had a good eye (I should have said a g'daye, shouldn't I?), it was indeed my first wombat plate. So he bought that and the preying mantis and two others besides. And ordered four more soup bowls and two dessert plates. So I was up nearly $200 before I'd even gone to Farmer's Market.
they're cousins, right?

So I had to update Today's theme is to Koala.

I had company in the booth for the afternoon. Denise hasn't been coming down to help for a variety of reasons, beginning with COVID, then arthritis and knee surgery, but this time she brought the car down around lunch time and spent the rest of the day with me in the booth, as well as visiting all the friends who've been asking after her for, well, ever. As with Anacortes, it was really nice having her help in what turned out to be a very busy day ($888!), not to mention I really miss just spending time with her.

About the time the sun finally broke through the clouds, I noticed something unusual across the street on the bank building.
hostage situation

Yes, that really is a bear stuffed in on top of the light. No idea who put him there or why; considered borrowing the Market's stepladder to get him down, but ultimately didn't need it. Denise agreed that he needed rescue, and with the help of her cane, I was able to snag him down.

We're calling him Banksy.

Back to the Saturday Market, and looking forward to a nice day out. Not gonna rain, not gonna bake, high is predicted for only 72°. Perfect, right?

Yikes, it was cold! Grey, overcast and windy morning, made me wish for my winter coat (which has a wool scarf in the pocket). Sun finally came out after lunch so I could take off my jacket, but it was nearly 3 pm before I finally shed my flannel shirt.

Setting up, I found this unlikely pair and was reminded of a meme I'd seen recently. Which is deadlier? (Hint: It ain't the one with its own week on television.) Almost sold the shark to a little boy with a shark t-shirt, though he eventually settled on an orca tall mug instead. Very nearly sold the hippo to a woman with a hippo t-shirt--you begin to see my marketing plan--but she decided she'd rather have mug, so I can start my patterns list for the next firing.

My last orders from the June firing finally picked up. Angela, who wanted the casserole based on glazing pix on Instagram, brought her boys and bought some extra plates and bowls to go with. Jane's husband picked up her order, an oddly shaped lidded jar for one of her specialty appliances. Shouldn't it have holes in the bottom? he asked, cognizant of the fact that most of her devices are steamers of one sort or another. The original didn't, I reply. Do you have it here? No, it's in my studio. You're sure it doesn't need holes? Eventually, he pays and lets me wrap it. I'm sure if it needed holes, I'd hear from her again.

Had a nice visit with a woman from Asheville, NC who sings at the Bach Festival, wrapping up this weekend. Says she makes it a point to stop in my booth and get a piece every year, something I love to hear. Since '20 and '21 were canceled, she makes up for it, buying four pieces this time. Hope they all travel safely in her suitcase.

Also talked to a grandmother who'd bought dessert plates for her grandchildren, years back. A granddaughter, who got her elephant plate at age 3, recently told her she still had it as she packed for college.

Had revisits from two buyers of June 25. First a woman comes in and asks, "Do you have an other octopus?" I realize she means a plate, she got one previously and asked about another, and as it happens, that's one of the things I left in the van after Roseburg. Shortly afterward, a younger woman comes in, says, "I don't know if you remember, but two weeks ago I was with a couple of friends who bought octopus pots" and I say of course, and tell her of the octopus plate sale follow-up. She wants something for herself, dithers briefly between an orca stew mug and the octopus pilsner, finally settles on the glass. She says they're fantasizing at their house about an entire dinner set of sea creatures, which frankly, sounds like fun. I tell her about a tile project I did with crabs, octopus, mussels and sea stars and anemones, for a table top. Called it Tide Tables. Never did assemble the table, but someone heard about it and bought the tiles to do the job themself.

There was a celebrity guest at Market in the afternoon: this is Sluggo, the mascot for AAA baseball's Eugene Emeralds. Yuri (the bear in the icon) and I caught up with him as he came past the Info Booth and did a little mirror dance. Yuri waved. He waved back. Yuri waggled his big feet. He did a little soft shoe. Yuri did a somersault. He... spun and wobbled a little but thankfully, didn't fall. So we waved goodbye and I went back to the customers I'd left in my booth (yeah, real professional, Frank), only later realizing I should have taken a photograph. Fortunately, he came by later to cross the street to west block, and this time, we were prepared.

The other bears are gonna be so jealous.

Well, bear of approval anyway.

Up to Corvallis last weekend for Corvallis Fall Festival. We're set up on the grass in Central Park, in three loops defined by the sidewalks--which we drive in circles on to get (hopefully) close to our booth space for set-up. Set-up starts at noon: the first hour is reserved for booths in the middle of each loop, then those of us on the perimeter can come in. Corvallis is close enough for me to commute--about 40 minutes from our north Eugene home--so I had lunch and drove up, arriving about 2 pm, to find most of my neighbors set up, and an easy drive in to space 121 from Madison street. I had everything out of the van and about half the shelving set up before the vehicles ahead of me cleared and I could park on the street and continue loading in. Was set up and closed in a little after 4 pm, and after a brief delay on highway 99--following two cars behind what turned out to be a Model A convertible doing 40 mph all the way from Corvallis to Monroe--I made it home in time to pick up two orders of fish and chips from the drive-through fundraiser at the Legion Hall.
aloha!

Because we can commute, we're a little more casual about getting everything sorted out before we leave for the show, which is why we discovered on Saturday morning, half an hour before leaving, that one of my teddy bear masks was missing. We have two, you see, so that Denise and I can each have a bear to distract crying children (or ourselves, on slow days), and to be a good example during global f**king pandemic, they've been wearing masks. No mask meant a bear would have to stay home, unless I was willing to sew a new one. Was I?

Of course I was. It only took five minutes, and Dora looked particularly fetching in Hawaiian print.

The drive up 99 is quite lovely, wandering through small towns and farmland. We watched a lot of hawks on the utility poles, in some stretches on every other one, and kestrels sitting on the wires between. Sunday morning, on River Road bound for Junction City, I saw what I thought was a hawk on a telephone pole, but it was very black. Vulture, maybe? Nope. It was a raven in the classic calling pose--wings back, head forward, feathered beard prominent. I've never seen one north of Medford before; what it was doing less than five miles from Eugene I have no idea.

The show was really busy--pent-up demand again, plus the students were just back at Oregon State. In honor of the OSU Beavers, I brought some beaver pots: dinner, dessert plates, and a tall mug. Both plates were gone before 11:00, and we'd already turned the page in our sales book. By 6 pm closing, we'd made more in sales than the entire weekend of 2019, and I was glad I could get another couple of boxes of stock out of the shed for Sunday morning. Unfortunately, I didn't get more wrapping paper--we were almost out, but I didn't write it down, so forgot. Lucky for us, Sandy Brown had extra, which she was willing to trade for another potato-chip cookie.
go beavs!

Some highlights: the three-year old girl whose mom was helping her adjust her mask back up over her nose, with the help of my teddy bear demonstrating. The young woman in goth/death metal attire, skull mask, leather strap collar with chain-link leash being held by her partner in matching collar, chattering delightedly about my bunny pots--she has two bunnies of her own. Showing a blind woman and former potter my animal banks by touch, and explaining why the stegosaur bank had a different texture than the cats. (Matte glaze versus gloss.) In fact, talking pottery techniques with a lot of folks, student potters and retirees coming back to pottery. Directed them to this blog, in fact.

And then there were the two young women, first year students, trying to decide between the shark and beaver tall mugs. I should get the beaver, because I'm at OSU, one said, But I really like the shark. I pointed out that in the middle ages, the Catholic Church defined beaver as a fish so that it could be eaten during Lenten fast days. Therefore, by holy writ, the shark is a beaver!

She bought the shark.

I sold a lot of things I didn't expect. Both covered casseroles on Saturday. The possum small pitcher I've been bringing out for years. A platypus large squared baker. Two cookie jars. I also sold the skunk pie, but I knew somebody was gonna want that one.

Fall Festival is notorious for dodgy weather--in 2019, we packed out in pouring rain--and though Saturday was forecast nice, the chance of rain on Sunday started looking worrisome late afternoon into evening. We thought we'd dodged the bullet, but around 2:30 pm the wind started picking up, though clouds didn't start massing until after 4. I brought my empty boxes over from the van at 4:30 so I could start packing promptly at 5:00 closing. By the time the pots were packed and the shelves taken down, my neighbors on that stretch were gone, so I was once again able to drive right up to my booth to load up, and we were out dry.

We wanted to celebrate a successful sale--our best Fall Festival ever--so went over to Evergreen Indian Restaurant, only to find they weren't doing dine-in, only takeout. Too tired and hungry to search for anything better, we stopped at Papa's Pizza on the way out of town and had an adequate sausage-mushroom pizza for which we paid forty bucks.

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Off Center Ceramics

January 2026

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Slightly Off Center

Random Ruminations of a Working Potter

Entries tagged with bears

Encounters

Bearnapping

Tunnel vision

Neighborly

Every bear that ever there was

Holiday

Three days

A Holiday gift

A Fable for Epiphany

Surreptitious wave

Birthday report

B-Side

Closed

Twinsies

We pause now

Birthday bear

A Bearow escape

The bear signal

Deadly

Seal of approval

Saturday (and Sunday) in the Park