Clay Sketch #3 | Not mixing

Keep it quick

I love unblended clays. Like freshwater pouring into seawater, a dirty iron clay encountering a pure white clay will produce a swirling storm of activity. Red infecting the purest china clays and the purest whites mellowing the heaviest iron oxides. I could sit there wedging, making lovely spirals, removing air pockets and inconsistency. There, I could have a uniform blob of clay. But where is the fun in that? This ain't wheel throwing, this is some rushed form I'm slapping together ,alone, in my studio, dancing in my undies. It doesn't have to be perfect. My clay sketches aren't for kilns or public consumption they are for personal development. Processes where the longed result isn't a finished piece but a learned technique. I don't think practice makes perfect but I do think practice makes things experimental.

I like messy forms. Crumbling dry sheaths of silica doused in rich-red stained porcelains, my reclaim bucket is complicated. A 70L tub filled with dozens of clay varieties, clays waiting patiently to be turned into a fired form. I've worked in throwing studios. I know a paint mixer is the best tool for speeding up reclaim. A quick blitz of a the power-tool will turn the recycled clay into a smooth, beautiful slip. A consistent product reacts consistently. When I throw I crave a consistent clay, but when I sculpt I revile a uniform product. I like chucking various clays together, different particle size, different colours, get them on! I work quick with my hands. Keep the movement. The clay has worked hard to be active, don't fuck it up. This piece took 10 minutes not because I wanted to be quick, but because I needed to be quick. Catch that activity while you can. Wedging clay is like mixing paints on pallet. I prefer to mix on the canvas.