Igneous

 

To ignite is to birth fire, to be igneous is to be birthed from fire. This journey starts with burning caverns and finishes with my burnished pot. The magma rich center of our Earth is a non-stop, nuclear-powered factory. Fueled by radioactive uranium and potassium it's been reliably running 24/7 for 4.5 billion years. This volcanic enterprise burns, churns and creates the minerals we call igneous. This molten Earth doesn't just flow, it rushes violently and devours into unshielded rock. To call these forces colossal would be an understatement. This raw unaltered power is something rarely experienced. A thin veneer of insulating crust is what protects us from the bone melting heat. And when I say bone melting I mean it! Underneath those 30km of packed rock and with 2000 degrees to spare, it's hot enough to turn the firmest of femurs to the most molten of soups. My grandfather used to describe vivid memories of getting close to Earth's engine rooms. In Carletonville, a town an hour drive from Johannesburg, he crammed into a cage that would transport him and the men he was with to the underworld. It only took 10 minutes but by then they were sitting in the deepest mine shaft in the world. 10,000 feet underneath insulating rock the temperature was unbearable. Refrigerators were hauled into these boiler like rooms, yet the narrow passages would keep the air hotter than any day in the Sahara. Work had to be halted so that the miners could upturn their rubber boots overflowing with sweat, it was as close to hell as you could ever get. It was at the depths that these human's truly understood the power of the geothermal engines below our feet. Engines that rip apart the bonds of the hardiest of stones and like alchemy, birth compounds completely anew. Engines that pulse with a power of such magnitude that us mere mortals struggle to grasp it. The engines of Earth's inferno deserve our praise but most of all deserve our respect. “Volcanoes are special because as we take delight in their strange beauty, there must always be an undercurrent of fear” -Professor Aubrey Manning From hundred of kilometers below my feet to the surface of my pot, how did these polished iron bleps get here? If the cores and mantles are the production factory, then volcanoes are the logistics department. With global reach and a long track record, volcanoes provide us with a rich assortment of minerals manufactured from deep below. The trachyte in this work comes from one of the most epic delivery systems ever appreciated. A 2000 km stretch of volcanoes from central Queensland to the northwest tip of Tasmania, it is the world's longest continental volcanic chain. Thirty three million years ago a hot plume busted through a weak crust and began regurgitating its igneous insides. As the world's continents slowly shifted, so too did the plume. From its beginnings up north it traveled southwards, eventually ending where it is today resting calmly in the bass strait. Each time the lava chain extended the chemical composition of its contents changed. Over the hills of New South Wales the plumed welled contents from deep within the Earth. A unique combination of alkali feldspar in the form of trachyte is what came in the delivery. Iron rich and with not too much silica the lava oozed with the consistency of warm honey. There on the heights of a prehistoric continent this unique gift cooled and clarified into hard lakes of glaze. I love igneous rock; They are both a unique tool in ceramics as much they are a unique story in geology. Isolated collections of rocks that reveal stories of climaxing volcanic plumes and lactating magma caverns. A strange beauty with an undercurrent of fear, a strange mineral formed in underground currents of fire. That's what sparks the fire for my love of igneous rocks, that strange beauty.