Slightly Off Center

I wasn't expecting much from Market; it's Labor Day weekend, which can mean more people leaving Eugene than visiting. Besides, there was a sportsball game in the afternoon, an uneven match between the Oregon Ducks and the Montana State Bobcats. But the weather was going to be nice, and I got a head start on glazing for the next firing on Thursday, so I figured, What the heck?

It didn't start out promising. You remember the place behind my booth last week, where we had to cut out a bit of shrubbery to clean up the feces? This week, there was a crack pipe there.

But anyway, the early morning brought lots of people in Duck green and yellow, a few in Bobcat jerseys. A trio of college-age young women stopped in a little after 10 am, looking around, and one of them spotted the goats soup bowl. Said her sister and partner had got a bit of land, and got goats, mostly for blackberry control. Bought the bowl, then went through the watercolor cards when I told her there were goats, bought one of them as well. One of the others also went through the box, picked out a giraffe and a goslings card. Then things went quiet for a bit.

They came back half an hour later; first girl had been on her phone with mom, who sent her back to get a goat mug as well. I'm gonna win at Christmas, she joked to her friends.

Then things got exciting. Laura, one of my regular Anacortes customers had been out of town that weekend, but would be traveling through Eugene later in the month. She'd emailed me to see when I'd be home at Market, but I'd totally forgotten when to expect her. Today was the day.

She started with a cat soup bowl and two painted mugs. A couple of catfood dishes. The cute sleeping cat dessert plate. Robin and horse soup bowls gifts for friends. A cat stew mug. Picked up the cat pilsner I'd been putting out forever, and when I said I had another in restock, took that one too. (Actually had two in restock, but didn't want to pile on.) Moose stew mug, another gift. Oh, and I found one of the grey cat dessert plates, extras from a special order, she asked me accusingly, And what is that? Bought it as well. In all, she got $315 in pottery, paid cash, gave me three cloth tote bags to put it in--really only needed two--and asked me to hold them until she and her husband came back later.

After that, things were surprisingly busy. Mostly mugs and bowls, a couple of dessert plates--including a goat plate the girls had missed--but also a frog bank and a big octopus serving bowl that was going home to Idaho.

We have a rosemary bush in the front yard that's trying to take over everything around it, so I offered some to a soap maker at Market. Denise was going to collect the cuttings and bring a bag down sometime in the morning. I kept half an eye out for her, but didn't see her. Was starting to wonder if she was okay, then wonder which food booth was using rosemary, as I kept getting whiffs of it. Finally occurred to me to look around to find an enormous grocery bag full in the back corner of the booth. I'd been so busy with Laura that I was totally oblivious to Denise walking up, handing the back to Chere and having her slip it into the back of the booth.

There are a couple of customer interactions that I particularly love. The first is when someone comes in and thoughtfully examines everything in the booth before picking the perfect piece. The other is when someone comes up the street, makes a beeline to the booth, and you know they came just for you.

I got both of them this afternoon. The first young woman was super quiet, a half-smile on her face, so I waited patiently. Finally picked out a bunnies stew mug, and we had a nice chat as I wrapped it for her. Mentioned how much I liked the smile, which got a laugh as well.

The other young couple zoomed in, talking up a storm. They'd gotten someone a butter bell as a gift last week, they'd loved it, now they wanted a full set for themselves, talked about where to start. Settled on a pair of tumblers, a raven and sea otter, and promised I'd see them again next week!

Talked with two different beginning potters, one a high-school or early college-age young woman, the other a woman about my age working at Clay Space. Passed on tips about my decorating process, told them about this blog. The young one was particularly grateful for the conversation--got the feeling she wasn't used to being taken seriously as an artist, which kinda made me sad.

Around two in the afternoon, a new white car/van/thing parked in front of the booth. Middle-aged couple got out of the front seats, teen-age boy out of the back. They were clustered around the back of the van, waiting for the rest of their party to arrive, I guess, when a little old man came around the front of the van from the passenger side. He was walking slow and careful, not unlike how Denise does without her cane. Stopped to look at the curb; he could probably have made the step up if the van was close enough to brace himself on the hood, or if he could reach the parking meter to steady himself, but both seemed too far away.

So I got up, came out of the booth, put out my hand and said, Can I help you? He took the hand, I put my other hand over it and braced him as he stepped up onto the sidewalk. He thanked me, stood there waiting while the rest of them did whatever they were up to--pulling the van forward when the car in front moved on, calling the others on the phone and holding the space until they got there. He pointed to my pheasant baker and said something I couldn't quite make out--the afternoon band was pretty loud--so I came back out of the booth, and he told me he used to see them where he lived in Washington. I said I'd seen them this time of year back in Wisconsin, once the oats had been harvested. He said they wanted to see the whole Market, but he'd like to look at my booth when they were finished, and I said I'd like that. About then, his daughter belatedly brought him his walker, surprised he'd made it up the curb on his own, and I went back in the booth.

They came back a couple of hours later, all in a flutter, so he didn't do more than give me a smile and a sweet little wave, but I watched to make sure they did a better job of helping him back down into the car.

Took advantage of a brief lull late morning to run the rosemary over Barbara; she and her husband came back late in the afternoon to thank me, and to pick out a pair of painted mugs, fox for him rooster for her. Said it wasn't necessary, but she said they really liked the mugs, particularly as she'd once had chickens. (Though it sounded like she'd lost the last three to predators. Foxes?)

By the end of the day I had yet another $1000+ day. I really need to fire that kiln.

I had to be down early both days at Market last weekend. On Saturday, I was doing early morning security, which mostly involved opening doors for vendors coming in with both hands full of product, and deflecting the occasional non-vendor out to the front lobby to wait until we opened at 10. They found the box of badges that had gone missing last year, so Umberto got to be the Beariff; I'm just the deputy, I tell people.

Sunday morning was the annual Pot Smash: A Charity Auction with Percussive Interludes. We potters donate seconds and orphans from special orders, some of the other vendors also bring their crafts, and we have a pre-opening auction to raise funds for the Kareng Fund, a Saturday Market Emergency Relief Fund for craftspeople. Some folks buy things for Christmas presents; some buy things for the joy of breaking them. We always bring a box of unsellables, and if things start getting a little sleepy, dropping a pot on the concrete floor wakes them right up again.

One of our founding members and auctioneer, Jon King, wasn't able to participate this year; he's recovering from radiation and chemo. We recruited a new helper, Kevin, whose partner sells bleach-dyed clothing. He's a funny, clever guy who, once he got over opening sale nerves, proved to be a natural. He, Alex and I kept things moving, and had gotten through all the lots with about a half hour to go before opening. Raised over $4000 for the fund, which has collected and disbursed over $100K in the years since it was found.

Sunday also seemed to be KLCC reunion day. First Pete Lavelle and Cina Kraft stopped by. Pete was long-time host of folk show The Back Porch, while Cina hosted the eclectic Heartwood Hotel. Late in the morning, Leslie Hildreth and husband Mark Herring said hello; Leslie was a news host who later transitioned to music, leading the Sunday morning Celtic program, The Mist-Covered Mountain. And we got a visit from Claude and Hannah Offenbacher; Claude was Weekend Edition-Sunday local news host for years.

Had a couple different people looking for presents for their office gift exchange. The first told me how she'd totally won her office exchange last year by bringing one of my tall mugs with a cheetah on it. She works at a veterinary hospital specializing in difficult referrals, that also treated animals for Wildlife Safari, down in Winston. Including cheetahs. It was one of those exchanges where people can steal each other's presents, and everybody was stealing the cheetah. At one point, someone even stole the business card that was in the mug, even though she'd brought extras.

I being an evil little troll, was pleased to point out that I had another cheetah mug on the shelf this year, so she snatched it up. With extra extra business cards.

The second seeker was ambivalent about her office's White Elephant exchange. Some people try and bring nice things, she said, While others just bring gag presents. I'm not sure which way to go. Why not bring an actual white elephant? I ask, pointing to the elephant tall mug I'd just put out to replace the cheetah. She though it the perfect compromise.

I've mentioned before how I like to play "What's your favorite animal?" with kids in my booth. I may have even mentioned that time I got stumped by an eight-year-old's deadpan, Great White Shark.

Well, Sunday morning, a mother and slightly older son stopped by. She was trying to interest him in the bunnies plate, or maybe mixing crock, but he wasn't too impressed. What's your favorite animal? I asked him. Sharks, he said. Like this? I asked, reaching past him to bring Great White Shark tall mug down off the shelf.

Exactly like that. Turns out his dad is a shark fan too. He bought it for him, cash, with his own money. And I finally got some closure on my shark trauma.

Holiday Market continues busy. How busy? I totally forgot to take any pictures and missed my obligatory "Today's Theme is post on Instagram." Did it matter? Not in the least.

This weekend we shared the Fairgrounds with the Gun and Knife show, which means I had to direct several lost gunnies in conservative attire (F*** Biden/Inslee sweat shirt and camo) out of our building and around the corner to theirs during set-up Friday, and there was a record amount of mask non-compliance (noses showing, under the chin, or no mask at all) on Saturday. Sunday was back to normal, thankfully, and both days were busy to within a few dollars of each other.

Had some nice visits over the weekend: sara from here on Dreamwidth stopped in with offspring J, having braved the horrible Portland traffic, taking four hours to get from Olympia to Eugene. And Sunday morning was potter's day: Beth and Skip, current and former Club Mud members, stopped to buy cards from Denise, and Faith (Local Clay) and partner Dave stopped in to pick up a bowl for his daughter in Cincinnati. (I really gotta figure out that "Where in the world is Off Center Ceramics" feature I've been considering.)

Sunday was also our annual Pottery Smash (aka Charity Auction with Percussive Interludes). It's a vendors-only event held before opening, to raise money for the Kareng Fund, Market's artists emergency-relief resource. All the potters, and several other vendors, donate wares. I use it to get rid of seconds that otherwise clutter up the shed, and share the auctioneering with fellow Agents of SMASH Alex and Jon. Folks get bargain--and occasionally not-so-bargain--presents for themselves and families, the Fund gets an injection of cash, and Alex takes home a big box of pot shards. More shards than usual, in fact. After the last couple of years, I think we needed the catharsis. Don't have any pix of the actual event this year, too wrapped up in the doing, but you can see photos from 2018, including video, here. Highest bids went to two non-pottery items: a pair of wooden bowls, lathe-turned by Reed from the remains of a venerable Big Leaf Maple that formerly graced the Shady Grove at the Oregon Country Faire. One sold for $300; I think the other drew $290.

At this point in the season, I'm counting down. No stick butter dishes left, one large covered casserole. One regular 4-cup teapot left, so I get the 6-cup model, duplicate from a special order, out to fill the hole in the display. (Repeat after me: An empty space is a missed opportunity.) I'm out of dragonfly soup bowls and chickadee stew mugs, and have only one hen and one cat painted mug. All the octopus tall mugs have sold, though I still have two octo-pie plates. Two days left to sell, we close 4 pm Christmas Eve.

I'm rapidly blowing through my dessert plates, though better stocked on dinners, despite selling eleven this weekend. Had a fellow ask if I gave any deals on sets. 5% off on sets of four, 10% for six or more, I said. He proceeded to pick out six dinner plates and six soup bowls.

Finally starting my own Christmas shopping this weekend. My family has been trained to expect their packages around Epiphany.

We don't actually use our front door, much. The screen door likes to jam, and, for Denise, the three steps down to ground level are a challenge, between her knees and the lack of a railing to hang on to. The studio door is a little further, through the kitchen and down a hall, but I've built a ramp there, for rolling in hand trucks full of clay. Besides which, it's closer to the driveway, car, van, pottery shed. I think the only reason I've opened the front door in the last few weeks was to accept packages, or to leave bags of pottery for contact-free pick-ups.

So it was a bit of a surprise, opening the door yesterday afternoon, to find this on the floor of the front porch.

It's a thank-you note from the woman with the broken cardinal mug.

I wonder how long it's been there?

Needed a break from lists of custom orders today, before tackling the big batch (with Denise's help) tomorrow. I had 25 bisque bowls set aside for Food For Lane County's annual Empty Bowls sale, so decided to do them. They're a slightly different size than my production bowls, and I use them to play with different forms, patterns, and really, just to play.

Here's the first batch, first just in line drawing, then with color added.


I'm guessing the sale will be postponed as well--it was originally scheduled for May 1--but I'll at least be prepared with my 100+ bowls whenever it finally rolls around.

Partly cloudy and dry today, so I took advantage of the weather to sort through my boxes of seconds for next Sunday's Kareng Fund Pottery Sale and Smash. Wound up holding one box back for the Club Mud sale in March, another was all bowls for Empty Bowls. Which left two big boxes and one small one for the sale, and another small one of things to break.

Sometimes you just gotta get their attention.

Food for Lane County's Empty Bowls Sale is tomorrow, from 4-8 pm at Sam Bond's Brewing, 540 E. 8th Avenue, in Eugene.

Over 1000 hand-crafted pottery, glass and wooden bowls will be available for purchase, and Bonds will donate $1 per pint sold to the food bank.

So actually, this is the only picture I have from last night's ArtWalk, posing with volunteer Renee and and oddly familiar piece of pottery. Once they opened the doors, we were all just too busy.

Talked to a lot of people who've been buying my bowls over the years, showed off some brushwork, even sold a few pieces out of my display. Had a nice talk with Mayor Piercy and a pretty sizable turn-out with the ArtWalk. Came home, stumbled through a late supper, and crashed hard.

Woke later than usual (6:30 am rather than 5:30), scrambled to get down to Saturday Market for another working day. Fame is fleeting.

This Friday, I get to be in the spotlight for a little bit.

I've been involved with Empty Bowls for years now, basically since Local Clay took it over from OPUS 5 gallery, somewhere in the 1990's. I've been EB vice-chair, then chair for Local Clay, organized our first "Throw-a-thon" at Club Mud, and try to give them at least 100 bowls every year. This year I think it was 106.

I've written elsewhere about why Empty Bowls is so important to me. This year, they're showing that I'm important to them as well.

This year's sale is on the first Friday of the month, and so they're participating in Lane Arts Council's First Friday ArtWalk. They're the final stop on the tour, and have asked me to be Featured Artist. I'll have a display of my non-bowl work (including a couple of sculptures), bring along some hand-made brushes and demo paper (don't think I'm quite up to actually glazing pots), and figure out something clever to say to the guest tour-leader.

Mayor Kitty Piercy.

Ulp.

This is what a happy food bank fundraiser looks like.

Meet Dawn Marie Woodward, Events coordinator for Food for Lane County. She's helping me unload and bring in 172 soup bowls for next Friday's Empty Bowls fundraiser. (I usually aim for a hundred bowls, but lost track sometime last winter…) I've written elsewhere about the reasons I contribute bowls; what I forgot to say is how much rewarding it is to have people excited, even delighted, to see my work.

The original Empty Bowls was a student fundraiser in Michigan in 1990-91; since then the idea as spread nationwide, including over half a dozen different events in Oregon alone. Eugene's Empty Bowls sale is an annual event, featuring bowls by local potters, wood and glass-workers, and the assistance of pottery organizations including Local Clay and Clayspace. Over 1000 bowls are sold with proceeds going to hunger relief in the local community.