Atlanta Bound
Long ago and far away, before I met my wife, I lived in Glendale, California, and I worked as a software engineer for a major defense contractor. I wasn't allowed to talk about what I did outside of work.
I was very, very good at what I did. I lived, slept, and breathed for work, taking time out to read lots of science fiction books, and attend the occasional convention. At one time I was writing accounting software on the side for the entertainment business. I was pretty shy and geeky.
One day, I decided that my life was a cerebral hell, and that I needed to pick up a hobby that produced something real in the world. I had taken a few pottery classes at an art center while in college, and decided to pick it up again. I attended classes at the Youth House in La Canada-Flintridge California, under the instruction of Helen Jean Taylor. I made a lot of good friends, and learned to throw consistantly, as well as learning to throw large. I could drop a twenty-five pound bag of clay on the wheel, and throw it into a large bowl.
I branched out into building Rose Parade Floats at this time, as a welder and shaper, learning to 'bend steel with my bare hands'. That is a tale for another day, for today we sing pottery.
I ended up moving to Marietta, Georgia in pursuit of career advancement. I lived a couple of miles from The Big Chicken.
After a few months of software insanity, I started looking for another art center to throw at. I looked in the phone book, and started driving around the city of Atlanta to scope out the different places. At one of the places, I encountered a very helpful potter, who gave me a rundown of all of the centers in the area, and what the pluses and minuses were of each. One in particular he didn't like, because he said that the instructor and her students spent most of the time chatting and drinking wine, and how he was more serious than that. I made sure to get detailed instructions on how to find the place.
I started throwing at what became the Spruill Center in Dunwoody, GA, and took classes with Vicki Paulet. I became one of the lab assistants, mixing glazes and loading kilns. I also developed a fondness for raku, which involves pulling pieces out of a kiln while they are orange hot, and putting them in sealed containers with combustable materials. The burning materials blacken any unglazed surfaces, and oxygen is pulled out of the glazes to turn them metallic or multicolored. Vicki would assign a class project each quarter, and we would have a pot-luck at someone's house at the end of session, and we would talk about our pieces. I made a lot of big bowls, but also significantly branched out into more sculptural pieces and lidded jars, including my Flash Gordon style raku rockets. Other works included "Love Potion #9", "Mauschwitz", and "Things are Looking Up".
Vicki and I became good friends, and I was close to almost everyone in my ceramics classes. I tended to cook a lot more back then, and would make desserts or truffles to bring to class.
I also started selling my work when in Georgia. The last bowl I had thrown in California sold at auction through the art center for four hundred dollars, and I sold two lidded jars for three hundred apiece through a shady art dealer who withheld the sales from me until I asked for the pieces back. If they had told me, I would have made more of the types of pieces that sold, and we all could have made more money.
Eventually, I tired of my job, and moved on to Phoenix, Arizona. I was sad to leave all of my new pottery friends. One of my friends gave me a bottle of wine as a going away gift.
While in Marietta, I started to play Dactyl Nightmare on the Virtuality 1000, a virtual reality game built by W Industries, at a local Dave and Buster's. I ended up becoming the Atlanta regional champion for the last year that I was in the city, which I only mention because it is directly tied to the story about meeting my wife, Julie, in Phoenix. The bottle of wine ties in too, but that is another story for another day.
I met Julie a little over ten years ago. We had a daughter together, and she has a son from a previous marriage. We've moved twice together, and she has grown as a potter while my skills have languished.
Now we have a kiln.
In about a month, we are going to be heading down to Atlanta, so Julie can meet all of my pottery friends, and so Vicki can meet my family for the first time. Maybe I can make a few rockets, and bisque them in the new kiln before we go, and raku them while I'm visiting.
I was very, very good at what I did. I lived, slept, and breathed for work, taking time out to read lots of science fiction books, and attend the occasional convention. At one time I was writing accounting software on the side for the entertainment business. I was pretty shy and geeky.
One day, I decided that my life was a cerebral hell, and that I needed to pick up a hobby that produced something real in the world. I had taken a few pottery classes at an art center while in college, and decided to pick it up again. I attended classes at the Youth House in La Canada-Flintridge California, under the instruction of Helen Jean Taylor. I made a lot of good friends, and learned to throw consistantly, as well as learning to throw large. I could drop a twenty-five pound bag of clay on the wheel, and throw it into a large bowl.
I branched out into building Rose Parade Floats at this time, as a welder and shaper, learning to 'bend steel with my bare hands'. That is a tale for another day, for today we sing pottery.
I ended up moving to Marietta, Georgia in pursuit of career advancement. I lived a couple of miles from The Big Chicken.
After a few months of software insanity, I started looking for another art center to throw at. I looked in the phone book, and started driving around the city of Atlanta to scope out the different places. At one of the places, I encountered a very helpful potter, who gave me a rundown of all of the centers in the area, and what the pluses and minuses were of each. One in particular he didn't like, because he said that the instructor and her students spent most of the time chatting and drinking wine, and how he was more serious than that. I made sure to get detailed instructions on how to find the place.
I started throwing at what became the Spruill Center in Dunwoody, GA, and took classes with Vicki Paulet. I became one of the lab assistants, mixing glazes and loading kilns. I also developed a fondness for raku, which involves pulling pieces out of a kiln while they are orange hot, and putting them in sealed containers with combustable materials. The burning materials blacken any unglazed surfaces, and oxygen is pulled out of the glazes to turn them metallic or multicolored. Vicki would assign a class project each quarter, and we would have a pot-luck at someone's house at the end of session, and we would talk about our pieces. I made a lot of big bowls, but also significantly branched out into more sculptural pieces and lidded jars, including my Flash Gordon style raku rockets. Other works included "Love Potion #9", "Mauschwitz", and "Things are Looking Up".
Vicki and I became good friends, and I was close to almost everyone in my ceramics classes. I tended to cook a lot more back then, and would make desserts or truffles to bring to class.
I also started selling my work when in Georgia. The last bowl I had thrown in California sold at auction through the art center for four hundred dollars, and I sold two lidded jars for three hundred apiece through a shady art dealer who withheld the sales from me until I asked for the pieces back. If they had told me, I would have made more of the types of pieces that sold, and we all could have made more money.
Eventually, I tired of my job, and moved on to Phoenix, Arizona. I was sad to leave all of my new pottery friends. One of my friends gave me a bottle of wine as a going away gift.
While in Marietta, I started to play Dactyl Nightmare on the Virtuality 1000, a virtual reality game built by W Industries, at a local Dave and Buster's. I ended up becoming the Atlanta regional champion for the last year that I was in the city, which I only mention because it is directly tied to the story about meeting my wife, Julie, in Phoenix. The bottle of wine ties in too, but that is another story for another day.
I met Julie a little over ten years ago. We had a daughter together, and she has a son from a previous marriage. We've moved twice together, and she has grown as a potter while my skills have languished.
Now we have a kiln.
In about a month, we are going to be heading down to Atlanta, so Julie can meet all of my pottery friends, and so Vicki can meet my family for the first time. Maybe I can make a few rockets, and bisque them in the new kiln before we go, and raku them while I'm visiting.
posted by SquidgePa at 9:03 PM
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