Slightly Off Center

What a relief to actually be stocked again! No shifting mugs to hide empty spaces, no hiding bowl stands behind the bench. A place for everything, everything in its place. And lots of pretty new pots filling the shelves.

The first of which sold just after nine o'clock. A couple of men and their adorable dog stopped next door to talk to Chere--well, to let her fawn on Winston the doggo--then came in to admire my pots. Said they might be back later, and were: five minutes later. Bought an octopie plate that's going home to Brisbane, Australia.

Sold several other pie plates, a bunch of tall mugs, a couple of bigger ticket items: large sea turtle serving bowl, large covered casserole, a brontosaur bank. Got into a discussion with a couple who couldn't believe how reasonable my prices were for hand-painted bakeware. Stuff like this would sell for $400 online; your prices are too low! Yeah, but hardly anybody can afford that $400 bakeware, and those who can are never gonna use it. Too spendy, too big a risk.

I keep explaining to people: I know how fast I throw. I know how fast I paint. And I feel that if my work is so expensive that people are afraid to use it, I'm doing something wrong.

I will note that they didn't actually buy anything, though they might yet special order a baker with their dog's picture on it. Not holding my breath.

Had a strange thing happen in the afternoon. I was checking my sales book against the Square report and found a discrepancy. There were two charges for a soup bowl, two minutes apart, 1:17 and 1:19 pm, on the same card. Huh?

I was sure I'd only sold two soup bowls all day, a raccoon, earlier in the report, and a fox bowl. The lady who'd bought the fox came in a few weeks ago, wanted a fox with its eyes closed, wasn't entirely happy with the one bowl I had left on the shelf. Today, I showed her a new one from the firing and she immediately wanted it. So I wrapped it, was about to bag it when she said she had her own bag. So I left it on my chair while we talked about some new patterns--she asked if I had six of the turkey dinner plates, I said I'd only one, but she could order a set of six. Then she asked if I made salad plates, I showed her the dessert plates, she said they'd do, but today she'd just take the fox bowl. So I finally put it in her bag and sent her on her way. And somehow, she got charged twice.

I'm still not entirely sure what happened, whether Square glitched and ran the charge twice, or whether we ran her card at the start, got distracted talking about plates, and ran it again. In any event, I requested a refund on the second transaction, which brought my total sales for the day just under $600.

Last week was... challenging.

It's always stressful when we roll around into this time of year. Two big shows coming up, needing lots of work. Work that, as it happens, I'd already sold a lot of in August. There's also the issue of fitting in my committee responsibilities around the making and glazing of pots. I'm Graphics chair for both of the aforementioned shows, so have to save some energy and creativity--not to mention time--to design posters, postcards, ads and billboards. It's a lot.

But I felt for once I had a handle on things. I even finished the production run a little early, so I had a couple of extra days for the glazing. What could go wrong?

I first noticed something weird about my glaze the day I started glazing. There were some lumps of unmixed glaze, odd because I screened the whole works when I mixed up the new 20,000-gram batch in August. Didn't feel like getting my screen out, so I grabbed one in the kiln room and ran a bucket of glaze through it. And found a residue of speckled yellow sand in the screen.

This should not be there! Our raw materials are industrially processed, ground to powder and air-floated. Also, I'd screened the glazes once already. What the heck?

I briefly considered mixing an entire new batch of glaze, but we were out of one of the crucial materials, Zircopax--an opacifier, without which, my white glaze... isn't. So I started glazing.

When I got to the second bucket of glaze, I ran it through my usual screen with no residue, but it still felt weirdly gritty. Rescreening with the finer-mesh shop screen once again caught sand. I checked the bins of raw materials and didn't find anything amiss.

It wasn't until midweek, when I decided to fill up unused space in my last bisque firing by calcining more ball clay that I found the culprit. The top layer of the ball clay bin was a different color, yellowish, and when I rubbed some between my fingers, there was the grit. I scraped off as much as I could to get to the white clay at the bottom of the bin, and scooped out as clean a batch as I could.

I still couldn't mix up another batch, but realized I could maybe make do with Tin Oxide instead. It's much more expensive, but you only need half as much. I mixed up a 1000-gram test batch, glazed a bowl. Also glazed another in the suspect glaze, for comparison, took them home to fire to cone 9 in my electric kiln. The color would be wrong, but I could at least check whether things fused properly. At this point, I'd already glazed two-thirds of my bisque, and I was really hoping I wouldn't have to wash it off and start over. (Besides, there wouldn't be time--kiln is booked solid for the rest of the month.)

I spent all day Thursday either on the computer or catching up on errands while waiting, for the results. Of course, that would be the time my kiln errored out without reaching temperature. Twice. It's been taking longer on bisque firings lately, and using more power. Looks like it's time to replace the elements, but that's no help for me now.

One bit of good news, though--our order of Zircopax had finally come in, so I mixed up a 10,000-gram batch of glaze using the--hopefully--pure batch of calcined clay. I also dipped two more test bowls and fired them to cone 6 in the little test kiln at Club Mud, one with the new glaze, one the old. Glazed up my dinner plates, and a couple of special order pie plates. Washed off enough glazed pieces to redo the special orders, so at least those were likely to turn out. Went home around midnight and crashed.

Friday morning brought good news. Even three cones under-fired, both tests were smooth and vitreous. The suspect glaze had a lot of fine speckles, probably from iron in the sandy particles, but in reduction-fired stoneware, iron spots a feature, not a bug.

So I glazed all my remaining pots, the re-glazed orders, the soup bowls, toddlers, about half of the stew mugs and a few cat foods. Finished right at 5:30 pm.

What was going on? I suspect we had a donation of raw materials from a closing studio, and someone put fire clay in the ball clay bin, either mislabeled or through carelessness. I'm hoping that 8% of one clay is enough like another that it will all work out.

Fingers crossed.

It's been just over ten years since I retired from my radio show; for those who joined me more recently, I hosted a folk/singer-songwriter program called The Saturday Cafe on KLCC public radio in Eugene for 25 years, from 1990 to 2015. I still get five or six emails from musicians every year, touting their new releases. I generally reply asking them to contact the station (and take me off their mailing list). Most of the folks I worked with have since retired; I don't have any personal contacts there anymore.

So I was surprised to get an envelope in the mail from KLCC last week. The address was hand-written, so I didn't think it was a fundraising pitch. Opened it to find another envelope within, addressed to "Frank Gosar (Folk)" at the station address. From CUBA.

Inside was this half-page letter; It's been 45 years since my college Spanish, so I'm not at all sure what he's saying. Is he offering to send me a CD? It seems to be "Cuban Love Rock Metal Punk, Heavy, Thrash, Doom, [Gothic?], Death."

Certainly not folk.

Got two identical copies of this in my inbox this morning. Don't know that it's a scam? Though that first paragraph reads really suspicious. At the very least, it's a mass website scrape and spam campaign. I clicked through the link, and there's a website. Based in Sweden.

I do know that I'm not interested. Packing and shipping a platypus dessert plate for international shipping nearly broke me. Sculpture? Fuggageddaboudit.

Went to Market!

Every now and again, someone will ask about pigs on pottery, so this last firing, I tried a new image. Kinda like it, so decided to feature it as Saturday's theme, especially as the Lane County Fair was in full swing. In fact, I went the whole hog, also featuring piggy banks, and a Pulp Romances piggy card. Hog Heaven!

It was a slowish day on the Park Blocks, though I had a lot of fun conversations. A geologist working on her dissertation, happy to talk about how much geology (and chemistry, and physics) is involved with pottery. A young potter taking a gap year from college, working on making things she can sell through her family's gift shop in Montana. A couple of experienced potters who asked about my process, and showed me pics of their pit and saggar-fired terra sigillata pots.

Mel the woodworker next door is a retired postal worker, so when one of his former colleagues stopped in for a visit, I thought she looked familiar. Turned out she was one of my favorite counter crew from the River Road Post Office. Val, along with Deb, Henry and Mee, helped me ship hundreds of pounds of pots over the years. They're all retired now, I think--last saw Deb at Corvallis Fall Festival in 2021, Mee at the Westside Post Office pre-pandemic. I don't have as close a relationship with the current batch of posties, mostly because I now print out my own labels online, so just drop my boxes in the cart and wave in passing. It's cheaper, but I kinda miss the personal contact.

In any case, I chased Val down, reintroduced myself, and we had a nice chat. Her friend that day was visiting from Anacortes, so I wrote my booth number in a business card to pass along, maybe we'll see her there.

Had several special orders to deliver, but didn't successfully deliver any. I did give Abdul his new tip jar before Market started, but said I'd pick up the money for it after he'd made some sales. He also offered me a free lunch--Afghani shish-kebabs, with flatbread, tomato and curried potatoes, yummy--but forgot to bring by the money later. I'll have to catch him when we get back. Meanwhile, Dawn wasn't happy with the heron mug, too big, so will get one from my next firing, and Cara had forgotten a conflict, so her ladybug bowl will wait as well.

Was looking like a very anemic day, sales-wise, but a couple who'd bought a few things last week decided to keep adding to their collection. She bought a dinner plate and bowl, then he came in and got a painted mug and pie plate. I'd told them about Cara and Jeremy replacing their boring wedding china one piece a week, and it looks like they've been inspired. So of course I had to show them the ladybug bowl; I suspect they'll be wanting that pattern on something too. With their two purchases, I bumped a little past $500, a totally respectable day.

Decided to take a different route home. I normally take 8th out to Washington and then Delta Highway to Beltline home, but I was almost out of gas, and we're driving to Anacortes next week, so I took 7th Street east to the Ferry Street bridge, then up Coburg Road to Costco. I was waiting at the High Street stoplight, had just started moving with the light change to green, the car ahead of me was barely through the intersection when a little white car blew past on High Street, running the red and just missing me. His front end had been torn off and he actually left the bumper behind in passing, right in front of my van. I wound up running over it, watched in my rearview as the cars following me steered around it. He didn't even slow down.

...how this wound up in the middle of our kitchen floor.

I swept him up into a pan and carried him outside before the cat came to investigate.

My satnav tried to drown us Sunday.

It's a Garmin we bought to help us get to art shows, and it's usually pretty reliable, except it has a tendency to want to take us on ferry rides. Tries to put us on the Whidbey Island ferry when going to Anacortes, for example, even though there's a perfectly good bridge on the north end of the island. And more than once, it's directed me to tiny Willamette River ferries, even if they only run one day a week; it seems to have a fascination with boats.

This, however, was a little bit beyond all that.

We'd brought it back with us this time because the last rental car, in May, had Navigator screen, but no software installed, and following Google Maps on my phone is a pain because I can't look at the screen while driving, and it's frequently about half a turn short on its instructions. Not to mention the fact that it defaulted to bike paths the last time we were in Minneapolis, and took us on an interestingly circuitous route from the airport to my sister's place at 10 pm. And of course cell service is terrible in rural Wisconsin, so the map can go away just when you need it the most.

So, Sunday morning, we checked out of the motel in Neillsville, had a leisurely breakfast with my brother and sister-in-law, then headed out for the highway. Lovely fall day, maples just starting to turn, puffy white clouds. Beautiful, and we made good time.

Perhaps a little too good. Realized we'd hit Minneapolis around 2:30, and the folks we were overnighting with wouldn't be home 'til supper, so we needed to fill some time.

If we'd been on state roads, it would've been easy to find an orchard or farmstand or just a picturesque town to poke around in. The Interstate, however, is designed to avoid pesky distractions like that. I know, I said, somewhere northwest of Eau Claire, Let's stop at Como Park in St. Paul. They've got a zoo and a conservatory and it's not too big, or usually too crowded. So we looked up Como Park Zoo and Conservatory in the Places of Interest tab, programmed the Navigator, and hit the road.

We got to St. Paul in good time, wound through the streets toward our destination, then, with a .3 miles to go, dead-ended in a T-intersection, right at Como Lake.

I took a right turn, looped around the lake and tried again. As I came back around, it started saying "Go Off Road" and indicating a left turn. Right into the water, which would have disturbed the couples out in swan boats considerably.

I found a parking space, dumped the program and got out my phone, which took us back around the other side, where we found the Conservatory and Zoo, admired the water lilies, and and Denise rested her knees on a bench by the flamingo pond while I walked around with my sketchbook.

Figured it out later--because we selected the place, but not the address, it was trying to place us in the center of the park. Drowning us was just an unexpected bonus.

Of course, on the way back to Maggie's, it tried twice to get us to take sections of 35W that were closed for construction, so I should probably download a map update as well.

Arrgh! Finally got my booth assignment from the UVA Summer Arts Festival next weekend. We're in the same space as usual, although they've renumbered the map, so instead of 25, I'm now 52.

But they've also changed the hours? Art booths close at 7 pm instead of 8, Friday and Saturday, which is a good thing, but they've moved up opening on Friday. Instead of opening at noon, as they have in the past, they're now opening at 10 am. This will definitely up the stress levels considerably during load-in.

 Got two emails yesterday asking about premade bisque for painting or glazing. One asking for Santa Claus figurines.

Yeah, no, not that kind of Ceramics. 

It's partly Google's fault; they insist on calling me a ceramics supply store, and don't have a drop down tab for "Independent Artist." It's also the industry's fault for taking a word that means "anything made of clay (or more exotic materials like alumino-zirconiates)" and limiting it to "pre-fired figurines your grandma used to paint."

In any case, I'm happy to note that Clarke's Ceramic Supply in Junction City is still in business.

It's been a kinda wtf? week. First, I got an email from my co-op treasurer, asking how I wanted him to fill out my 1099s. This wouldn't have been a big deal, except I'd already answered that question twice. Apparently he wasn't getting my emails, and was getting downright cranky, as, honestly, was I. So this time, I replied to his email, cc'd it to his business/pottery email, and left a message on his voicemail for good measure. Apparently, one of the three finally made it through, though we have no idea what happened to the earlier replies.

Then I got an invoice in the mail from UPS to Frank Gosar/Shippo for a package shipped to middle-of-nowhere Utah in late November. Now, I do ship my pots through Shippo. They negotiate discounts with major shippers, and I can print labels and drop boxes off at the Post Office or UPS Store, not have to wait in line. But I've got my account linked to my PayPal, so there's no way I should be owing anything to UPS, even if I did recognize the address, which I didn't. Running the tracking number was even weirder; apparently the package shipped from La Mirada, CA. Is that Spanish for mirage?

In any event, I left a Help ticket at Shippo, called UPS the next morning. After an annoying phone tree but a surprisingly short hold, I got an agent who zeroed out the invoice. Later got an email from Shippo's service folks saying it's a known problem with UPS's billing system, and since I'd included photos of both sides of the invoice, they'd gone ahead to reach out directly to UPS. Which is probably why I got so little fuss from them.

Best of all, though, was this email:

Hi Frank,

I'm on the editorial team of VoyageMinnesota Magazine and we're interviewing local entrepreneurs, creatives and community leaders for our Inspiring Stories series.

Please let me know if you are available for an interview in the coming weeks.

We're excited to learn more about you and share your story with our readers. There is no cost involved, but we'll of course need some of your time for the interview.

I'm sure our readers would love hearing your story and many would benefit from learning from your experiences.

Note regarding COVID-19: The interviews are done remotely and don't require you to leave your home. Hope you and your family are staying safe.

Thanks,

[redacted]

Okay, this is weird because 1) I live in Oregon, 2) I'm originally from Wisconsin, not Minnesota (though I studied under a Minnesota potter, and subscribe to the philosopy, if not the aesthetic), and 3) How the heck did they get my contact information in the first place?

I replied with all of the above, and got back:

Thanks for letting me know! Please disregard this request. This could have been a mistake from our end.

Could have?