What does it mean to be a potter? The question is difficult to answer. The rewards are many but it can’t be denied that there is a great deal of the mundane. The essential tasks of sieving and grinding are my least favorite.
Opening the kiln after a glaze firing a significant moment for any potter. With the kiln door closed, the interior is populated by the imagination. Once opened, reality cannot be denied. For the crystalline potter especially, it is often a moment of jarring disconnect.
On a sunny morning in January 2025 I opened a particulary heavily loaded kiln. To my delight, among the many pieces were two execptional results, both featuring a new glaze. One, in particular, stood out. I was thrilled, here was a fine result indeed.
I changed my planned day, once the chores of removing catchers and base polishing had been done, I packed the pots and set off with camera equipment for a photography session.
Hagg Wood, very close to where I grew up but now a three hour round walking trip, offers good opportunities for displaying my work in the natural environment. As a child, it was a place inhabited by creations of imagination: the Rawley Boggart and the Green Lady Tree. On a cold moonlit night, river mist would often rise over the surrounding fields with The Green Lady Tree, a sinister, long dead trunk with a single bough often standing alone above it.
Hagg wood was also one of the first places I photographed. The images shown here were taken in 1984 using my Praktica 35mm SLR camera.
And so, one of the valuable rewards of being a potter. A quiet walk with time to contemplate and record a new creation.
Scene in Hagg Wood circa 1984. Taken with my Praktica MTL 5 SLR. Kodachrome ASA 400 film.
CZ7
I took the picture at the top of a small outcrop of gritstone overlooking Hagg Wood. The calm day allowed the winter sunshine to take the chill out of the cold air. A perfect time to contemplate and evaluate. This is what it means to be a potter.
CZ7 on a piece of gritstone above Hagg Wood.
A spring day in Hagg Wood. 2025.