Work is work, but also money is useful

a little panic, a little test tile

I’ve been making test tiles, for new pots. They’re great. Also, my spouse lost his job last week, totally unexpectedly, laid off. That’s less great.

Finally, there is a squirrel who has broken into our house on the second floor, and is taunting everyone, including our dog, Millie, who barks at him hysterically whenever she’s in the yard. We are currently those neighbors, and we’re sorry. I do not know where or how he’s getting in, but I want to relocate him to Siberia, ideally immediately.

It is hard to be an artist, or possibly a person.

Ori has always been an artist: first book out later this year from Cornerstone Press (UW-Stevens Point), tons of poetry publications, including new poems in the last issue of Superstition Review, and new work soon in Ploughshares. He makes most of our food, including amazing slow-cooked meats and herb salads, and puts together a beautiful garden each year. He thinks about things that I don’t consider, but always appreciate, like refilling the hand soap or doing laundry (without him, I’m pretty feral). We have managed to string together a life, but everything feels more precarious now. 

I think somehow, we're convinced that unless we're teaching at a university, our passions should be a side hustle. Being an artist so often requires sacrifices, including financial ones. Ori completely supported my decision to quit my corporate office job five years ago to write full-time, and continued to provide stability despite an often frustrating work environment that inspired the chapbook Interim Assistant Dean of Having a Rich Inner Life. He writes: It’s hard to imagine what comes next, after over a decade with one employer, but I’m relieved and excited to have some time to dedicate to our creative lives together.

This also means I need to get my butt into gear.

In related news, I am going to have a big sale of new pots soon, which hopefully can help bridge the gap, and I would be willing to do some commissions (can I interpret your book cover as a book cup? It’s a bit expensive to set up, but I can do most covers as cups, especially now, with new glazes I’ve developed more recently, and once it’s set up, the cost of duplicate cups goes down).

I’m also applying for lots of different sorts of jobs, and if you have a lead for either of us, please reach out. I am interested in teaching or editing jobs, or project management, or I may get a job in retail in the immediate future. One or both of us may apply to graduate school. We love the Chicago area, but will look beyond, of course, in our new job and/or school search.

In the meantime, I am working on the book, slowly, and I also made some test tiles, using new stains I got from a supplier outside of the city a few weeks ago. So far, they look like this:

this is just the start; I have many more to test still

Each one has a different percentage of pigments, but all of them have the same original base (a mix of frits, zircopax, tile #6 kaolin, silica, and zinc oxide, plus CMC gum, which makes the glazes brushable). Very easy and straightforward, recipe-wise, and all are food, microwave, and dishwasher safe. I am making some more, including a lime green and an electric pink now, plus a magenta that has been dogging me for a while now. For some reason it is tricky to get magenta at cone 5. A lot of pink or red stains essentially burn out at that temperature (2160F), and so the resulting colors feel washed out. Many potters make low-fire pots (earthenware) to compensate for this problem, but I don’t want to go there because I think the work is too fragile and prone to breakage. In the meantime, I’m encouraged by the vibrancy of these test colors. Makes the magenta seem possible.

My friend Kelly, who is also an artist, says that in addition to applying for jobs, I have to work on the book first, and the piece I’m writing for VQR this fall, and make pots too, but to prioritize the writing work when possible. She is probably right. September is fast approaching, she says. This is the deadline for the book, for now. It would be good to turn that in.

So I’m writing, making pots, applying for things. I just have to keep moving.

And trap and relocate that squirrel.